LIBRARY 

PRINCETON.  N.  J. 

Case.   ^'v^Ii^-:'BSfe^ 


No, 


No,  Sheli~Zec^\c,x^.^.h2M\3r 


No.  Book, 


^£[^ 


11  »»"■  ■« 


^ 

The  John  M.  Krebfs  Donation. 

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SCRIPTURE    HISTORY; 


OPw 


C  ONTEMPLATIONS 


HISTORICAL   PASSAGES 


BY   THE   RIGHT   REV.   JOSEPH   HALL,    D.  D. 

BISHOP    OF   NORWICH. 

Abridged  hj  Rev.  George  Henry  Glasse. 


"  And  beginning  at  Moses,  and  all  the  prophets,  he  expounded  unto  them 
all  the  Scriptures  the  things  concerning  Himself." — Luke,2i  :  27. 


PUBLISHED   BY   THE 

AMERICAN    TRACT    SOCIETY; 

150   NASSAU-STREET,    NEW-YORK. 


D.  Panshaw,  Printer. 


i 


OLD  AND  NEW  TESTAMENTS.     ^ 


CONTENTS 


Couteniplation,  Pago. 

1.  The  Creation,  ...•••<•••  9 

2.  Paradise,       .         .         .' 13 

3.  Cain  and  Abel, *         .  17 

4.  Noah, .  21 

5.  Abraham,           .•.••....  26 

6.  Isaac, 30 

7.  Jacob, 34 

8.  Joseph, 39 

9.  Israel  in  Egypt,           •••••••••  44 

10.  Moses  bom  and  called,  8..«»«.43 

11.  The  Plagues  of  Egypt, 53 

12.  Isi-ael  in  the  wilderness, 58 

13.  The  Law, 62 

14.  The  Veil  of  Moses, 66 

15.  Korah, 71 

16.  Balaam, 75 

17.  The  death  of  Moses, 80 

13.  Joshua, 84 

19.  The  Gibeonites, 89 

20.  Gideon, 94 

21.  Manoah, 93 

22.  Samson, 103 

23.  Naomi, 107 

24.  The  birth  of  Samuel ,         .112 


4  CONTENTS. 

Contemplation.  Page. 

25,  Eli, 116 

2G.  Saul  anointed,      .         . 120 

27.  Samuel  and  David, 125 

28.  David  and  Goliah, 129 

29.  The  death  of  Saul, 134 

SO.  Nathan  and  David, 138 

31.  The  conspiracy  of  Absalom,       .         •        •         •         .         .  143 

32.  The  death  of  Absalom, 148 

33.  Solomon,           .     , 152 

34.  The  Temple, 157 

35.  The  Queen  of  Sheba, 162 

3G.  Jeroboam,    ....•...»        '^  166 

37.  Elijah  at  Sarepta, 172 

38.  Elijah  on  Carmel,          .         .         • 176 

39.  Naboth, 181 

40.  The  ascent  of  Elijah,    .         . 186 

41.  The  Shunammite, 191 

42.  Naaman,        .         .         2 195 

43.  Jehu,          .        ,         .        .        : 200 

44.  Athaliah, 205 

45.  Hezekiah  and  Sennacherib, 210 

46.  Hezekiah  and  Isaiah,      .         .         ,         .         .         ;         .         .214 

47.  Josiah, 219 

48.  The  captivity  of  Judah, 224 

49.  Ezra, 229 

50.  Nehemiah, 234 

51.  Esther, 240 

52.  The  death  of  Haman,            247 


CONTENTS. 


THE   NEW   TESTAMENT. 

Coutemplation,  Page. 

53.  The  Angel  and  Zacliariali,   .          ,....,  253 

54.  The  Annunciation  of  Christ,  .           ♦         .         .         ,         ,  258 

55.  The  Birth  of  Christ, 262 

5G.  The  Sages  and  the  Star,   ...,.,.  267 

57.  The  Purification, 273 

58.  Herod  and  the  Infants, 077 

59.  Christ  with  the  Doctors  in  the  Temple,          ....  282 

GO.  Christ  Baptized,       .    / 287 

CI.  Christ  Tempted, ,  292 

62.  The  same, ,  297 

G3.  Simon  Peter  called,     .         •         ••■•>,,  303 

64.  The  Man-iage  in  Cana,     .,.,,,,  308 

G5.   The  Good  Centurion,             ..••,,,  313 

G6.  The  Widow's  Son  raised, 317 

67.  The  Ruler's  Son  healed, 322 

CS.  Matthew  called, 327 

69.  The  Gadarenes,           .         ,         .         ,         ,         ,         ,         ,  330 

70.  The  Woman  of  Canaan, 337 

71.  Zacchens, 342 

72.  Hcrodias, 348 

73.  The  Multitude  fed, 353 

74.  Christ  Walking  on  the  Sea, 358 

75.  Peter  Walking  on  the  Sea, 364 

7G.  Jainis, 369 

77.  The  Samaritan  Village, 375 


6  CONTENTS. 

Contemplation.  Page. 

78.  The  Ten  Lepers, 379 

79.  The  Transfiguration,              .......  385 

80.  The  same, 390 

81.  The  Lunatic  healed,  .....,,.  395 

82.  Bethesda,        .         .         _ 401 

83.  The  Power  of  Conscience,  .......  406 

84.  The  thankful  Penitent, 412 

85.  Martha  and  Maiy, 418 

86.  The  Blind  Beggar  cured, 423 

87.  The  Sons  of  Zebedee,            .......  429 

88.  Lazarus,           .         .         .....         .         .  434 

89.  The  same,  .         :         i 439 

90.  Christ's  Entry  into  Jerusalem,  • 445 

91.  Christ  betrayed,            ........  451 

92.  The  Agony, 456 

93.  Peter  and  Malchus, 461 

94.  Christ  before  Caiaphas, ,         .  466 

95.  Christ  before  Pilate, .471 

96.  The  same, 477 

97.  The  Crucifixion, 482 

98.  The  same, 487 

99.  The  same, 492 

100.  The  same,    ". 497 

101.  The  Resurrection, 501 

102.  The  same, 507 

103.  The  Ascension, 512 


lNTR0i>u6TI0N^?7£>in^     / 


The  name  of  Joseph  Hall,  Bishop  of  Norwich,  is  re- 
membered with  veneration  at  the  distance  of  two  centu- 
ries from  the  period  in  which  he  flourished.  Few,  if  any, 
of  the  fathers  of  the  English  Church  have  left  behind 
them  such  illustrious  memorials  of  learning,  piety,  and 
unwearied  industry  in  the  cause  of  truth.  The  blame- 
lessness  of  his  life — the  fervor  of  his  charity — the  variety 
and  importance  of  his  theological  wi'itings,  have  been  so 
many  irresistible  claims  on  posterity  to  preserve  him  from 
the  oblivion  into  which  most  of  his  contemporaries  have 
fallen.  A  wise  and  judicious  writer  of  his  own  times,  Sir 
Henry  Wotton,  distinguished  him  as  the  Christian  Se- 
neca. He  might  have  proceeded  further.  He  might 
have  called  him  the  Chrysosto77i  of  England. 

The  life  and  sufferings  of  this  eminent  servant  of  God 
have  been  so  carefully  transmitted  to  the  present  times, 
that  it  will  here  be  sufficient  simply  to  mention,  that  he 
was  born  at  Ashby  de  la  Zouch,  A.  D.  1574 — that  his  edu-  ■ 
cation  (which  commenced  at  the  free-school  endowed  in 
the  place  of  his  birth)  was  completed,  under  many  diffi- 
culties and  disadvantages,  at  Emanuel  College,  Cam- 
bridge— that  he  was  successively  Rector  of  Halstead, 
Minister  of  Waltham-Cross,  Domestic  Chaplain  to  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  Prebendary  of  Wolverhampton,  Dean 
of  Worcester,  Bishop  of  Exeter,  and,  lastly,  Bishop  of 


8  INTRODUCTION, 

Norwich — where  he  suffered  bitter  persecution  in  the 
turbulent  times  which  succeeded  the  murder  of  his  So- 
vereign, and  where  he  died  in  an  honorable  and  dignified 
poverty,  A.D.  1656,  in  the  eighty-second  year  of  his  age. 
He  was  one  of  four  deputed  to  represent  the  Church  of 
England  at  the  Synod  of  Dort  in  1618,  but  having  attend- 
ed for  two  months,  he  was  compelled  to  return  home  by 
the  failure  of  his  health. 

The  following  pages  are  commended  to  the  public  with 
the  earnest  hope,  that  in  these  times  of  lukewarmness  and 
depravity,  they  may  promote  the  glory  of  God,  and  diffuse 
more  widely  the  knov/ledge  of  sacred  truth — opening 
prospects  of  joy  to  the  afflicted  soul,  and  representing  to 
the  eye  of  faith  Christ  the  End  of  the  Law  and  the  Ful- 
ness of  the  Gospel,  who  is  over  all,  God  blessed  for  ever* 
more.    Amen. 


CONTEMPLATIONS* 


THE  scripture"  ffi'STORY. 


1.— THE  CREATION. 

What  can  I  see,  O  God,  in  thy  creation,  but  miracles 
of  omnipotence  1  Thou  mad  est  something  of  nothing ; 
and  of  that  something,  all  things.  It  is  to  the  praise  of 
us  men,  if,  when  we  have  matter,  we  can  give  it  fashion  : 
thou  gavest  a  being  to  matter,  without  form  ;  thou  gavest 
a  form  to  that  matter,  and  a  glory  to  that  form.  Where- 
in can  we  now  distrust  thee,  who  hast  thus  fully  proved 
thyself  to  be  the  God  that  doest  wonders  1 

Thou  mightest  have  made  all  the  world  perfect  in  an 
instant,  but  thou  wouldst  not.  How  should  we  deliberate 
in  all  our  actions,  which  are  so  subject  to  imperfection, 
since  it  pleased  thine  infinite  perfection,  not  out  of  need, 
to  take  leisure  !  Neither  did  thy  wisdom  herein  proceed 
in  time  only,  but  in  degrees.  First,  thou  madest  things 
which  have  being  without  life — next,  those  which  have 
life  and  being — lastly,  those  which  have  being,  life,  rea- 
son. Thus  we  ourselves  first  live  the  life  of  vegetation, 
then  of  sense,  of  reason  afterwards.  When  the  heaven 
and  the  earth  were  created  in  their  rude  matter,  there 
was  neither  day  nor  light ;  but  presently  thou  madest 
both  light  and  day.  How  vainly  do  we  hope  to  be  perfect 
at  once  !  It  is  well  for  us,  if,  through  many  degrees,  we 
rise  to  our  consummation. 
1* 


10  hall's  scripture  history. 

But,  alas,  what  was  the  very  heaven  itself  without 
light  1  How  confused  !  how^  formless !  Like  a  fair  body- 
without  a  soul — like  a  soul  without  thee.  Thou  art 
lio-ht :  and  in  thee  is  no  darkness  at  all.  0  how  incom- 
prehensibly  glorious  is  the  light  that  is  in  thee,  since 
one  glimpse  of  this  created  light  gave  so  lively  a  glory 
to  all  thy  workmanship !  Shine  thou,  0  God,  into  the 
recesses  of  my  soul,  and  in  thy  light  I  shall  see  light. 

But  whence,  O  God,  was  that  original  light  1  The 
sun  was  not  made  till  the  fourth  day — light,  the  first. 
Thou,  who  madest  the  sun,  madest  the  light  before  the 
sun,  that  so  light  might  depend  upon  thee,  and  not  upon 
any  part  of  thy  creation.  Thy  power  will  not  be  limited 
to  means.  It  was  easy  for  thee  to  mai^e  a  heaven  with- 
out a  sun,  light  without  a  heaven,  time  without  its  pe- 
riodical revolutions.  We  creatures  need  not  one  an- 
other, so  long  as  we  have  thee.  A  day  will  come,  when 
we  shall  have  light  again  without  the  sun — thou  wilt  be 
our  Sun — thy  presence  our  light.  Light  is  sown  for  the 
righteous.  That  light,  which  thou  shalt  then  give  us, 
will  make  us  shine  like  the  sun  in  glory. 

And  now  the  light,  which  was  for  three  days  dis- 
persed through  the  whole  heavens,  is  united  into  the 
body  of  the  sun.  One  star  is  the  treasury  of  light  to 
heaven  and  earth.  Thus,  0  God,  the  waters  by  thy  com- 
mand are  gathered  into  one  place,  the  sea — thus  wilt 
thou  gather  thy  saints  from  all  parts  of  the  universe  to 
be  partakers  of  thy  joy.  We  are  as  thy  heavens  in  their 
first  imperfection.  Be  thou  our  sun,  into  which  all  our 
light  may  be  gathered  ! 

Yet  was  this  light  by  thee  interchanged  with  dark- 
ness. What  an  instructive  lesson  hast  thou  thus  im- 
parted to  thy  creatures!  The  day  dies  into  night,  and 
rises  into  morning  again,  that  we  may  not  expect  sta- 
bility here  below.  It  is  always  day  with  thee  above — 
the  night  savoreth  only  of  mortality.   0  Lord,  our  night 


THE    CREATION.  11 

is  far  spent — our  day  is  at  hand — teach  us  to  cast  off 
the  works  of  darkness,  and  to  put  upon  us  the  armor 
of  light. 

How  fitly,  how  wisely  are  all  the  parts  disposed  in 
this  thine  enlightened  frame!  Behold  all  purity  above; 
that  which  is  less  excellent  below.  Each  element  is  su- 
perior to  other,  that  by  these  degrees  of  a§cending  per- 
fection our  thoughts  might  rise  to  the  top  of  all  splen- 
dor, and  know  thine  empyreal  heaven  to  be  as  much 
more  glorious  than  the  visible,  as  t/iai  excels  the  earth. 
O  how  miserable  is  the  place  of  our  pilgrimage  com- 
pared with  our  home  !  We  think  one  island  great,  the 
earth,  scarce  measurable.  If  we  were  in  heaven  with 
these  eyes,  the  whole  earth  would  then  seem  to  us  as  a 
grain  in  the  balance,  or  as  a  moat  in  the  sunbeam.  The 
greatness  of  thy  work,  0  God,  is  little  inferior  to  its 
majesty.  But  oh,  what  a  glorious  heaven  hast  thou 
spread  over  our  heads !  With  what  a  precious  canopy 
hast  thou  encircled  our  inferior  world !  What  gems  of 
light  hast  thou  set  above  us !  Kings  build  not  cottages, 
but  magnificent  palaces — so  hast  thou  done,  O  King  of 
Glory  !  If  the  pavemejit  of  thine  heaven  be  so  splendid, 
what  shall  we  think  of  that  which  yet  is  unseen  !  If  this 
sun  be  so  radiant,  what  is  the  brightness  of  its  Creator  ] 
If  such  a  sky  be  prepared  for  the  use  and  benefit  of  us 
sinners  upon  earth,  how  bright  shall  those  eternal  ta- 
bernacles be  which  thou  hast  prepared  for  thy  children 
in  heaven ! 

Behold  then,  in  this  stately  building,  three  distinct 
stages :  this  lowest  heaven  for  fowls,  for  vapors,  for 
meteors — the  second  for  the  stars — the  third  for  thine 
angels  and  saints.  The  first  is  thine  outward  court,  open 
for  all — the  second  is  the  body  of  thy  covered  temple, 
wherein  are  those  candles  of  heaven  perpetually  burn- 
ing— the  third  is  thine  holy  of  holies.  In  the  first  is 
tumult  and  vanity — in   the    second,    immutability  and 


12  hall's  scripture  history. 

rest — in  the  third,  glory  and  blessedness.    The  first  we 
feel — the  second  we  see — the  third  we  believe. 

But  to  descend  to  this  lowest  and  meanest  region, 
wherewith  our  senses  are  more  acquainted — what  mar- 
vels do  even  here  present  themselves !  There  are  thy 
clouds,  thy  treasuries  of  rain — there  they  hang  and 
move,  though  weighty  with  their  burden — how  they  are 
upheld,  and  by  what  means  they  fall  we  know  not,  and 
wonder.  There  are  thy  streams  of  light,  blazing  and 
falling  stars,  fires  darted  up  and  down  in  many  forms, 
hollow  openings,  and  as  it  were  gulfs  in  the  sky,  bright 
circles  about  the  moon,  snows,  hail.  There  are  thy 
subtle  winds,  which  we  hear  and  feel,  yet  neither  can 
see  their  substance  nor  know  their  causes — whence 
and  whither  they  pass,  and  what  they  are,  thou  knowest. 
If  we  go  down  to  the  great  deep,  we  are  there  at  a  loss 
whether  to  wonder  most  at  the  clement  itself  or  the 
guests  it  contains.  How  doth  that  sea  of  thine  roar,  and 
foam,  and  swell,  as  if  it  would  swallow  up  the  earth ! 
Thou  stayest  the  rage  of  it  by  an  insensible  violence, 
and  by  a  natural  miracle  confinest  its  waves.  I  say  no- 
thing of  those  hidden  treasures  which  thy  wisdom  hath 
deposited  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth  and  sea — what  in- 
numerable wonders  doth  the  very  face  of  nature  ofi^er 
us!  Which  of  these  herbs,  flowers,  trees,  leaves,  seeds, 
fruits,  is  there,  what  beast,  what  reptile  wherein  we 
may  not  see  the  footsteps  of  a  Deity  1 — wherein  we  do 
not  read  infinite  power  and  skill,  convinced  that  He  who 
made  the  angels  and  stars  of  heaven,  made  also  the 
creeping  thing  that  creepeth  on  the  earth  1  O  God,  the 
heart  of  man  is  too  limited  to  admire  sufficiently  even 
that  he  treads  upon.  How  shall  we  speak  of  thee,  the 
Maker  of  these  1  0  Lord,  how  wonderful  are  thy  works 
in  all  the  world  !  In  wisdom  hast  thou  made  them  all. 
Thou  spakest  and  they  were  done — thy  will  is  the 
word— and  thy  word  the  deed.    Thine  hand  is  not  now 


PARADISE.  13 

shortened — thy  word  is  still  equally  effectual — all  things 
still  obey  thee.  Say  thou  the  word,  and  our  souls  shall 
be  made  new  again :  say  thou  the  word,  and  our  bodies 
shall  be  repaired  from  the  dust. 


2.— PARADISE. 

But,  O  God,  what  a  little  lord  thou  hast  made  over 
this  great  world !  When  I  consider  the  heavens,  the 
sun,  moon,  and  the  stars.  Lord,  what  is  man  1  Yet  none 
but  he  can  see  what  thou  hast  done ;  none  but  he  can 
admire  and  adore  thee  in  what  he  seetK :  how  had  he 
need  to  do  nothing  but  this,  since  only  he  can  do  it ! 

It  is  lawful  for  us  to  praise  thee  in  ourselves.  All  thy 
creation  hath  not  more  wonder  in  it  than  one  of  us. 
Other  creatures  thou  madest  by  thy  mere  command; 
man,  by  a  divine  consultation:  others  at  once;  man 
thou  didst  first  form,  then  inspire :  others  in  several 
shapes;  man,  in  thine  own  image:  others,  with  quali- 
ties fit  for  service  ;  man,  for  dominion.  How  should  we 
be  consecrated  to  thee  above  all  others,  since  thou  hast 
thus  distinguished  us  above  all !  First,  thou  didst  create 
the  world  and  furnish  it ;  then  broughtest  thou  in  thy 
tenant  to  possess  it.  Thou  that  madest  the  earth  ready 
for  us  before  we  had  a  being,  hast  by  the  same  mercy 
decorated  a  place  in  heaven  for  us,  while  we  are  yet  on 
earth.  The  stage  was  fully  prepared;  then  was  man 
brought  thither,  both  as  an  actor  and  spectator,  that  he 
might  neither  be  idle  nor  discontented.  Behold,  thou 
hast  prepared  the  earth  for  his  use,  the  heaven  for  his 
contemplation,  and  himself  in  his  soul  and  body,  an 
epitome  of  heaven  and  earth.  Even  this  mortal  part,  vile 
as  it  is  in  respect  of  the  other,  as  it  is  thine,  O  God,  I 


l^  hall's  scripture  history. 

contemplate  with  wonder — for  lo,  this  heap  of  earth 
hath  an  outward  reference  to  heaven.  Yet  if  this  body- 
be  compared  to  the  soul,  what  is  it  but  a  mask  to  a 
beautiful  face,  a  coarse  case  to  a  rich  instrument,  a  wall 
of  clay  that  encompasses  a  treasure!  Man  was  made 
last,  because  he  was  worthiest :  the  soul  was  inspired 
last,  because  yet  more  precious.  0  God,  who  madest  it, 
replenish  it,  possess  it — dwell  thou  in  it  now,  and  here- 
after receive  it  to  thyself.  The  body  w^as  made  of  earth, 
common  to  its  fellow-creatures — the  soul  derived  im- 
mediately from  above.  The  body  lay  senseless  upon 
earth  like  itself — the  breath  of  life  made  it  what  it  is  j 
and  that  breath  was  from  thee.  Sense,  motion,  reason 
are  infused  into  it  at  once.  Thou,  who  by  thy  breath 
gavest  thy  disciples  thy  Holy  Spirit,  didst  also  breathe 
on  the  body,  and  gavest  it  a  living  spirit.  To  thee  only 
are  we  indebted,  without  any  intermediate  agency,  for 
our  nobler  part.  Our  flesh  is  from  flesh — our  spirit  is 
from  the  God  of  spirits.  How  should  our  souls  rise  up 
to  thee,  and  fix  themselves  in  their  thoughts  upon  thee  ! 
How  should  they  long  to  return  back  to  the  fountain  of 
their  being  and  the  Author  of  their  glory  ! 

Man  could  no  sooner  see,  than  he  saw  himself  happy. 
His  eyesight  and  his  reason  were  both  perfect  at  once  ; 
and  the  objects  of  both  tended  to  his  complete  felicity. 
"When  he  first  opened  his  eyes  he  saw  heaven  above 
him,  earth  under  him,  the  creatures  about  him  :  he 
knew  what  all  these  meant,  as  if  he  had  been  long  ac- 
quainted with  them  all.  He  saw  the  heavens  glorious, 
but  far  ofl':  his  Maker  thought  it  proper  to  prepare  him 
an  earthly  Paradise.  It  was  fit  his  body  should  have  an 
image,  on  earth,  of  that  heaven  which  should  afterwards 
receive  his  soul.  Had  man  been  only  formed  for  con- 
templaUon,  he  might  have  been  placed  in  some  vast  de- 
sert, or  on  the  top  of  some  barren  mountain — but  the 
same  power  which  gave  him  a  heart  to  meditate,  gave 


PARADISE.  15 

him  hands  to  work,  and  work  fitted  to  his  hands.  Nei- 
ther was  it  merely  the  design  of  the  Creator  that  man 
should  live — he  willed  him  to  be  joyful.  Pleasure  is 
every  way  consistent  with  innocence  ;  it  cannot  indeed 
exist  without  it.  God  loves  to  see  his  creatures  happy  j 
our  lawful  delight  is  his.  They  know  not  God  who 
think  to  please  him  by  making  themselves  miserable. 

What  rare  and  grateful  varieties  do  we  find  in  gar- 
dens planted  by  the  hands  of  men  !  But  when  He  who 
made  the  matter,  undertakes  the  fashion^  how  must  it 
be  beyond  our  capacity  excellent !  No  herb,  no  flower, 
no  tree  was  wanting  which  might  be  for  ornament  or 
use.  And  yet,  if  God  had  not  there  conversed  with 
man,  his  abundance  had  never  made  him  blessed. 

Here  his  pleasure  was  his  task.  Paradise  served  not 
only  to  feed  his  senses,  but  to  exercise  his  hands.  Did 
happiness  consist  in  doing  nothing,  man,  in  his  state  of 
innocence,  had  been  unemployed.  But  man  is  no  sooner 
made,  than  his  Creator  gives  him  his  appointed  work : 
he  must  labor,  because  he  was  happy — he  was  happy, 
in  that  he  labored.  The  more  cheerfully  we  discharge 
the  duties  of  our  several  callings,  the  more  nearly  do 
we  approach  to  our  paradise. 

Neither  did  these  trees  afl^ord  him  only  action  for  his 
hands,  but  instruction  to  his  heart.  All  other  trees  in 
the  garden  had  a  natural  use — two  a  spiritual.  The 
tree  of  knowledge  and  the  tree  of  life  were  designed 
to  nourish  the  soul  by  a  lively  representation  of  that 
living  Tree,  whose  fruit  is  eternal  life,  and  whose 
leaves  are  for  the  healing  of  the  nations. 

0  infinite  mercy !  Man  saw  his  Savior  before  him, 
ere  he  had  need  of  a  Savior.  He  saw  in  whom  he 
should  obtain  a  heavenly  life,  ere  he  had  lost  the 
earthly.  And  though  after  he  had  tasted  of  the  tree  of 
knowledge,  he  might  not  taste  of  the  tree  of  life,  yet 
then  did  he  reap  most  benefit  from  the  invisible  tree  of 


16 

life  when  he  was  most  restrained  from  the  visible.  Of 
this  food,  0  Savior,  thou  hast  called  me  to  partake. 
Lo,  I  eat,  and  in  spite  of  Adam's  disobedience,  I  live 
for  ever. 

How  divine  a  thing  is  knowledge,  whereof  even  inno- 
cence itself  was  ambitious!  But  it  Avould  not  content 
our  first  parent  to  know  God  and  his  creatures;  his  cu- 
riosity affected  to  know  what  God  never  made — evil  of 
sin,  and  evil  of  death.  We  know  evil  well  enough,  and 
smart  with  knowing  it.  How  dearly  hath  this  lesson 
taught  us,  that  in  some  cases  our  happiness  consists  in 
being  ignorant!  How  many  thousand  souls  miscarry 
with  the  presumptuous  affectation  of  forbidden  know- 
ledge !  O  God,  thou  hast  revealed  to  us  as  much  as  we 
can  know — enough  to  make  us  happy.  Without  thee 
wisdom  is  folly,  and  learning,  ignorance. 

Such  was  the  abode  of  unfallen  man,  yet  even  there 
was  seen  the  tempter.  What  marvel  is  it,  if  our  depra- 
vity find  him  present  with  us,  when  our  holy  parents 
found  him  in  their  paradise  !  No  sooner  is  he  entered, 
than  he  commenceth  his  attack :  elsewhere  he  knew 
there  v/as  no  danger;  behold  him  at  the  tree  forbidden! 
Lord,  (let  me  beg  it  without  presumption,)  make  thou 
me  wiser  than  Adam.  Even  thine  image,  which  he 
bore,  preserved  him  not  in  obedience,  by  reason  of  his 
own  infirmity.  When  he  had  made  a  covenant  with 
death,  and  with  hell  an  agreement,  it  was  just  for  thee 
to  dismiss  him  from  his  glorious  abode.  Why  shouldst 
thou  feed  a  rebel  at  thine  own  board  1 

And  yet  we  transgress  daily,  and  thou  dost  not  shut 
lieaven  against  us:  how  is  it  that  we  find  more  mercy 
than  our  forefather  ?  His  fancied  strength  deserved  se- 
verity— our  weakness  finds  pity.  That  God,  whose  face 
he  fled  in  the  garden,  now  makes  him  with  shame  fly 
out  of  the  garden — those  angels  that  should  have  kept 
him,  now  keep  the  gates  of  paradise  against  him.    It  is 


CAIN    AND    ABEL.  17 

not  so  easy  to  recover  happiness  as  to  keep  it,  or  to 
lose  it. 

The  same  cause  which  drove  man  from  paradise, 
has  since  withdrawn  paradise  from  the  world.  That 
fiery  sword  did  not  defend  it  against  those  waters 
wherewith  the  sins  of  men  drowned  the  glory  of  the 
world ;  neither  now  do  I  seek  where  that  paradise 
was  which  we  lost — I  know  where  that  paradise  is 
which  we  must  study  to  seek  and  hope  to  find.  As 
man  was  the  image  of  God,  so  w^as  that  earthly  para- 
dise an  image  of  heaven — both  the  images  are  defac- 
ed— both  the  first  patterns  are  eternal.  Adam  was 
the  first — he  remained  not — in  the  second  is  that  Se- 
cond Adam,  which  said,  "  This  day  shalt  thou  be  with 
me  in  paradise."  There  was  that  chosen  Vessel,  who 
heard  and  saw  what  could  not  be  expressed — since  as 
much  as  the  third  heaven  exceeds  the  richest  earth, 
so  doth  that  paradise,  to  which  we  aspire,  exceed  that 
which  we  have  lost.  Thou,  O  God,  shalt  show  us  the 
path  of  life — in  thy  presence  is  fulness  of  joy — at  thy 
right  hand  is  pleasure  for  evermore. 


3.— CAIN  AND  ABEL. 

• 

Look  now,  O  my  soul,  upon  the  two  first  brethren, 
and  wonder  at  their  contrary  dispositions.  If  the  privi- 
leges of  mere  nature  had  been  of  any  value,  the  first- 
born child  had  not  been  desperately  wicked.  Behold  in 
Abel  a  saint,  in  Cain  a  murderer  ! 

Doubtless  their  education  was  holy.  For  Adam, 
though  in  paradise  he  transgressed  the  command  of 
God,  was  devout  and  faithful  in  his  exile.  His  sin  and 
fall  had  made  him  circumspect :  and  since  he  saw  that 


18  hall's  scripture  history. 

his  act  had  bereaved  his  children  of  those  blessings 
that  were  once  in  store  for  them,  he  would  surely  labor, 
by  all  holy  endeavors,  to  atone  for  what  had  passed, 
that  so  his  care  might  make  amends  for  his  trespass. 
Alas,  who  would  then  think  that  the  children  of  this 
common  parent  should  not  be  examples  of  mutual  love  % 
If  but  two  brothers  be  left  alive  of  many,  we  think  that 
the  love  of  all  the  rest  should  survive  in  them — yet  be- 
hold here  are  but  two  brothers  in  a  world,  and  one  is 
the  assassin  of  the  other  !  That  spirit  which  caused 
enmity  between  man  and  God,  now  sets  enmity  be- 
tween man  and  man.  All  quarrels,  all  uncharitable- 
ness  must  flow  from  one  only  source.  If  we  enter- 
tain wrath  we  give  place  to  the  devil.  Certainly  so 
deadly  an  act  must  needs  be  deeply  grounded. 

What  then  was  the  occasion  of  this  capital  malice  1 
Abel's  sacrifice  meets  with  acceptance.  What  was  this 
to  Caini  Cain's  oblation  is  rejected.  Could  Abel  be  in 
fault  on  this  account  1  O  envy,  the  corrosive  of  all  evil 
minds,  and  the  root  of  all  atrocious  actions  !  It  should 
have  been  Cain's  joy  to  see  his  brother  accepted — it 
should  have  been  his  sorrow  to  see  that  he  had  deserv- 
ed rejection :  his  brother's  example  should  have  ani- 
mated and  directed  him  in  the  same  path  of  godliness. 
Could  Abel  prevent  the  fire  of  God  from  descending  on 
his  brother's  sacrifice  1  Or  should  he  be  insensible  of 
the  mercy  shown  to  himself,  and  displease  his  Maker 
to  satisfy  a  graceless  brother  1  Was  Cain  removed  fur- 
ther from  a  blessing  because  Abel  obtained  mercy,  and 
found  favor  from  above  1 

How  proud  and  how  foolish  is  malice,  which  grows 
thus  frantic  and  desperate  for  no  cause,  but  that  God  is 
just  and  his  servant  holy !  Religion,  from  the  introduc- 
tion of  sin  amongst  mankind,  hath  ever  been  the  occa- 
sion of  danger  to  the  children  of  light.  O  Lord,  let  me, 
in  indifferent   actions,  be  careful  to  avoid  giving  of- 


CAIN    AND    ABEL.  19 

fence — but  while  I  walk  in  the  way  of  thy  command- 
ments, and  receive  the  gracious  manifestations  of  thy 
favor,  I  care  not  if  my  obedience  provoke  the  indigna- 
tion of  thine   enemies. 

Seldom  hath  there  existed  a  nature  so  perfect  as 
to  be  altogether  free  from  envy.  Many,  who,  perhaps, 
do  not  suspect  themselves,  would,  upon  examination, 
find  that  they  had  some  traces  of  Cain's  disposition  in 
their  own.  Too  often  do  we  hate  that  goodness  in  those 
around  us  which  we  neglect  in  ourselves. 

There  was  never  ^nvy  that  was  not  bloody — for  it 
will  devour  our  own  heart,  if  it  reach  not  that  of  ano- 
ther. If  it  be  not  restrained  by  the  over-ruling  arm  of 
heaven,  it  will  surely  be  defiled  with  blood — often  in 
act — always  in  disposition.  And  that  God,  who  in  good 
accepts  the  will  for  the  deed,  condemns  the  will  for  the 
deed  in  evil.  If  there  be  an  evil  heart,  there  will  be  an 
evil  eye  :  and  if  both  these,  an  evil  hand. 
^  How  early  did  martyrdom  come  into  the  world ! 
The  first  man  that  died,  died  for  religion. 

But  who  dares  measure  God's  love  by  outward  events, 
when  he  sees  the  wicked  Cain  stand  over  the  bleeding 
Abel  1  The  sacrifice  of  that  holy  man  was  first  accept- 
ed, and  now  himself  was  sacrificed.  Death  was  denounc- 
ed to  man  as  a  curse,  yet  behold  it  is  first  inflicted  on 
the  innocent.  How  soon  is  this  curse  turned  into  a  be- 
nediction !  I  heard  a  voice  from  heaven,  saying  unto 
me,  ''  Blessed  are  the  dead  which  die  in  the  Lord."  If 
death  had  been  finally  evil,  and  life  good,  then  would 
Cain  have  been  cut  ofl^,  and  Abel  would  have  survived. 
Now,  since  we  see  that  it  begins  with  him  whom  God 
loveth,  we  cry  out  with  confidence,  ''  0  Death,  where 
is  thy  sting  1" 

Abel  says  nothing — his  blood  cries.  Every  drop  of 
guiltless  blood  hath  a  tongue  ;  and  is  not  only  vocal  but 
importunate.  How  loud  then  was  the  sound  which  went 


20 

up  to  heaven  when  that  righteous  blood  was  shed,  the 
blood  of  him  who  w^as  both  the  Priest  and  the  Sacrifice 
— Him,  who  accepted  it  in  his  divine  nature,  while  he 
offered  it  in  his  human  !  The  Spirit  Avhich  witnessed  both, 
declares  that  it  spake  better  things  than  the  blood  of 
Abel.  Abel's  blood  called  for  revenge — thine,  0  Savior, 
for  mercy.  Abel's  blood  pleaded  his  own  innocence — 
thine,  the  satisfaction  made  for  all  who  should  believe. 
Abel's  blood  procured  Cain's  punishment — thine  deliver- 
ed all  repentant  souls  from  the  wrath  of  God  and  the 
judgment  which  would  have  ensued.  Better  things  in- 
deed than  the  blood  of  Abel!  It  is  good  that  God 
should  be  avenged  on  sinners.  It  is  better^  that  through 
Thy  mercy  he  should  spare  the  penitent. 

No  sooner  doth  Abel's  blood  speak  to  God,  than  God 
speaks  to  Cain.  There  is  no  wicked  man  to  whom  God 
speaks  not — if  not  to  his  ear,  yet  to  his  heart.  The  words 
of  the  Almighty,  on  this  occasion,  are  not  an  accusa- 
tion, but  an  inquiry — yet  such  an  inquiry  as  would  in- 
fer an  accusation.  God  would  have  a  sinner  accuse 
himself — it  is  the  first  step  towards  repentance  and  par- 
don. He  hath  therefore  placed  his  awful  vicegerent  in 
the  breast  of  man.  But  while  divine  grace  seeks  to 
produce  this  ingenuous  confession,  unregenerate  nature 
abhors  it.  Cain  answers  with  stubborn  insolence.  The 
very  name  of  Abel  wounds  him  no  less  than  his  hand 
had  wounded  Abel.  Consciences  that  are  Avithout  re- 
morse are  not  without  horror — wickedness  makes  them 
either  penitent  or  desperate.  The  homicide  dares  to  be 
angry  with  God,  as  first  for  accepting  his  brother's  obla- 
tion, so  now  for  listening  to  his  blood  ! 

Lo,  he  presumes  to  answer  God  with  a  question,  '^  Am 
I  my  brother's  keeper  1" — when  he  should  have  said — 
''  Am  I  not  my  brother's  murderer  V  He  scorns  to  keep 
him  whom  he  feared  not  to  destroy.  Good  duties  are 
base  and   troublesome   to  wicked   minds,  while   they 


NOAH.  21 

shrink  not  from  the  most  abandoned  villany.  Yet  this 
miscreant,  who  -had  neither  grace  to  avoid  his  sin,  nor 
to  confess  it,  when  he  is  convicted,  and  has  received  his 
just  sentence,  is  loud  and  importunate  in  his  cries  and 
exclamations.  He,  who  regards  not  the  act  of  sin,  shall 
be  made  to  feel  the  smart  of  his  punishment.  In  the  re- 
gions of  sorrow,  the  enemies  of  God  are  weary  of  their 
torments,  but  in  vain.  Cain,  who  would  not  keep  his 
brother,  is  cast  out  from  the  protection  of  God — Cain, 
who  feared  not  to  kill  his  brother,  fears  death  at  the 
hand  of  every  man.  The  troubled  conscience  projects 
fearful  things,  and  sin  makes  even  cruel  men  cowardly. 
God  condemns  the  criminal,  not  to  die,  but  to  live.  He 
was  anxious  for  life — it  is  granted  him  :  but  it  is  grant- 
ed as  a  curse.  How  often  doth  God  hear  sinners  in  au- 
ger !  He  shall  live,  banished  from  God,  carrying  his  hell 
in  his  bosom,  and  the  brand  of  Divine  vengeance  in  his 
forehead.  God  rejects  him — the  earth  refuses  to  pros- 
per him — men  abhor  him — he  now  wishes  for  the  death 
which  once  he  feared,  but  the  world  does  not  afford 
another  murderer.  How  bitter,  how  endless  are  the 
consequences  of  sin!  Now  Cain  finds  that  he  killed 
himself  rathev  than  his  brother.  We  should  never  of- 
fend, if  we  foresaw  in  what  light  our  offence  would 
hereafter  appear  even  to  ourselves.  The  issue  of  sin 
would  be  found  a  thousand  times  more  horrible  than 
the  act  is  pleasant. 


4— NOAH. 

What  a  deluge  of  sin  preceded  the  flood  of  waters  ! 
The  unequal  yoke  with  infidels  caused  this  superfluity 
of  naughtiness.    The  sons  of  God  beheld  the  daughters 


22  hall's  scrifture  history. 

of  men,  that  they  were  fair.  Religious  husbands  lost 
their  piety,  and  gained  a  rebellious  .and  monstrous 
progeny. 

That  which  was  the  first  occasion  of  sin,  was  the  oc- 
casion of  the  increase  of  sin.  No  man  hath  his  soul  in 
safety  who  hath  not  made  a  covenant  wuth  his  eyes. 
Like  their  first  parents,  these  deluded  patriarchs  beheld 
that  which  God  had  forbidden — they  saw — they  lusted — 
they  transgressed — and  they  died. 

The  Divine  justice  might  have  punished  them  with- 
out previous  notice — yet,  to  approve  his  mercies  even 
to  the  wicked,  God  gives  them  a  hundred  and  twenty 
years'  space  for  repentance.  How  loth  is  the  Lord  to 
strike,  who  threatens  so  long !  He  who  delights  in  re- 
venge, surprises  his  adversary — he  who  gives  long  warn- 
ingSj  seeks  even  for  the  guilty  a  way  to  escape.  It  is  the 
obduracy  of  man  alone  which  occasions  his  suffering. 

Neither  doth  God  in  this  instance  give  time  only;  he 
sends  a  faithful  teacher.  Happy  are  the  flock  whose 
pastors  are  righteous.  Noah's  hand  taught  as  well  as 
his  tongue.  His  business,  in  building  the  ark,  was  a 
real  sermon  to  the  world — while  the  work  itself  pro- 
claimed mercy  and  life  to  the  believer,  and  to  the  rebel- 
lious, destruction. 

Methinks  I  see  the  gigantic  sons  of  Lamech  coming 
to  Noah  and  asking  him  what  he  means  by  that  strange 
work  1 — whether  he  designs  to  sail  upon  the  dry  land  ] 
To  whom,  when  he  declares  God's  purpose  and  his  own, 
they  depart  in  scorn,  wagging  their  heads  and  saying, 
"  He  is  beside  himself — too  much  holiness  hath  made 
him  mad."  But  all  their  impious  mockeries  deprive  not 
Noah  of  his  faith — he  preaches,  and  builds,  and  finishes. 
It  is  probable  that  other  hands  besides  his  own  and  those 
of  his  family  assisted  him  in  his  labors — that  many  con- 
tributed to  build  the  ark,  who  were  not  preserved  in  the 
ark.    Our  outward  works  cannot  save  us  without  our 


NOAH.  23 

faith.  We  may  procure  deliverance  to  others,  and  yet 
be  miserable  ourselves. 

What  a  wonder  of  mercy  is  this  that  we  here  behold  1 
— a  single  family  called  out  of  a  world — a  few  grains 
of  corn  selected  from  so  vast  a  quantity  of  chaff!  An 
unholy  descendant  of  Noah  is  kept  alive  for  his  father's 
sake — not  one  righteous  man  perished  in  the  general 
destruction.  For  these  few  the  earth  was  still  preserv- 
ed under  the  waves.  Were  it  not  for  the  godly,  fire 
would  even  now  consume  that  world  which  could  not 
be  purified  by  water. 

The  most  savage  of' all  creatures  (by  an  instinct  of 
God)  come  to  seek  the  ark — not  a  man  is  seen  to  ap- 
proach. Reason  once  depraved  is  worse  than  brutish- 
ness.  How  gently  do  these  tyrants  of  the  desert  ofl^er 
and  submit  themselves  to  the  patriarch,  renewing  that 
allegiance  to  the  repairer  of  the  world,  which  before  his 
transgression  they  paid  to  its  first  lord!  The  lions  fawn 
upon  Noah  and  Daniel.  If  the  Creator  will  preserve,  the 
creature  hath  no  power  to  destroy. 

The  day  is  come — all  the  guests  are  entered — the  ark 
is  shut — the  windows  of  heaven  are  open — and  the  foun- 
tains of  the  great  deep  broken  up.  Now  these  scoffers, 
when  they  see  the  predictions  of  Noah  about  to  be  ful- 
filled, approach  in  haste  and  importunately  crave  admit- 
tance. But  as  they  formally  rejected  God,  so  they  are 
justly  rejected  by  him  in  return.  Before  vengeance  be- 
gins, repentance  is  seasonable — till  judgment  be  gone 
out,  we  do  not  cry  too  late.  While  the  Gospel  solicits 
US,  the  doors  of  the  ark  are  open.  If  we  neglect  the 
time  of  grace,  we  shall  learn  by  sad  experience  that 
God  will  fearfully  punish  the  obdurate.  When  from  the 
tops  of  the  mountains  they  contemplate  their  approach- 
ing dissolution  with  paleness  and  horror,  they  see  the 
ark  floating  upon  the  waters,  and  behold  with  envy  that 
which  they  formerly  beheld  with  scorn. 


24<  hall's  scripture  history. 

In  vain  doth  he  fly,  whom  God  pursues.  There  is  no 
way  to  avoid  his  judgments,  unless  we  betake  ourselves 
to  his  mercy  by  repentance.  The  faith  of  the  righteous 
was  once  derided — now  his  success  demonstrates  the 
hand  of  God.  How  securely  doth  Noah  ride  out  this  up- 
roar of  heaven,  earth,  and  waters!  He  hears  the  pouring 
down  of  the  rain  above  his  head — the  shrieks  of  men, 
the  roaring  of  beasts  around  him — the  raging  of  the 
waves  beneath  him.  He  sees  the  miserable  end  of  the 
unbelievers ;  and  in  the  mean  time  himself  neither  feels 
nor  fears  evil.  He  knows  that  God,  who  created  the 
waters,  will  direct  him — that  God,  who  had  shut  him  in,- 
will  preserve  him.  How  happy  a  thing  is  faith !  What 
a  quiet  safety,  what  a  heavenly  peace  doth  it  work 
in  the  soul,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  inundations  of  evil ! 

At  length  the  Almighty  decreed  that  a  renovation  of 
all  things  should  succeed  this  destruction.  After  forty 
days  the  heaven  clears  up — after  a  hundred  and  fifty, 
the  waters  sink  down.  God  is  soon  weary  of  punishing 
— he  is  never  weary  of  blessing.  Now  doth  Noah  send 
out  the  raven  and  the  dove.  The  raven  flies  away,  and 
returns  no  more.  The  carnal  mind  quits  the  church  of 
God  and  embraces  the  present  world  j  scorning  to  be 
restrained  within  the  limits  of  christian  obedience.  The 
dove,  like  a  true  citizen  of  the  ark,  returns,  and  by  her 
olive-leaf  brings  welcome  news  of  the  abatement  of  the 
waters.  How  worthy  are  those  ambassadors  to  be  re- 
ceived with  joy,  who,  with  innocence  in  their  lives, 
bring  glad  tidings  of  peace  and  salvation  in  their 
mouths ! 

Noah  believes  and  rejoices,  yet  still  he  waits  seven 
days  more  ere  he  will  despatch  again  his  winged  mes- 
senger, and  two  months  ere  he  will  forsake  the  ark : 
nor  would  he  even  then  have  quitted  it,  had  not  the 
God  who  commanded  him  to  enter,  commanded  him 
likewise  to   depart.     Happy   is  that  man  who    in   all 


things,  neglecting  the  counsels  of  flesh  and  blood,  de- 
pends  upon  the  direction  of  Omnipotence. 

No  sooner  is  Noah  come  out  of  the  ark  than  he  builds 
an  altar — not  a  house  for  himself,  but  an  altar  to  the 
Lord.  Delayed  gratitude  is  not  worthy  of  acceptance. 
Behold  this  fire  of  Noah*s  sacrifice  ascends  up  to  those 
heavens  from  whence  the  waters  fell,  and  a  glorious 
rainbow  appears  there,  for  his  security  and  that  of  his 
descendants ;  a  pledge  of  the  everlasting  covenant  be- 
tween heaven  and  earth.  No  incense  can  be  so  sweet 
in  the  presence  of  God  as  the  holy  obedience  of  the 
faithful.  Here  then  was  there  a  new  and  second  rest. 
First,  God  rested  from  making  the  world,  now  from  de* 
stroying  it.  We  cease  not  to  offend,  but  he  forbears 
again  to  punish  us  by  a  general  overthrow.  His  word 
was  enough;  but  he  adds  a  token  which  may  speak  the 
truth  of  his  promise  to  the  very  eyes  of  men.  Nor  is 
this  more  evident  in  the  natural  than  in  the  spiritual 
world.  His  blessed  sacraments  are  the  symbols  of  his 
heavenly  covenant  to  the  soul.  All  the  signs  of  his  in- 
stitution are  proper  and  significant. 

But  who  would  look,  after  all  this,  to  find  righteous 
Noah,  the  father  of  the  new  world,  drunken  in  his  tent  % 
Alas,  what  are  we  men  without  assistance  from  God  \ 
While  he  upholds  us  no  temptation  can  prevail  against 
us ;  if  he  withdraw  his  support,  no  trial  is  too  weak  to 
overthrow  us.  He  who  thus  sufl^ered  the  king,  the  priest, 
the  prophet  of  the  world  to  transgress,  knows  how  to 
make  even  the  errors  of  his  holy  ones  tend  to  the  ad- 
vantage of  his  church.  If  we  had  not  such  examples  of 
human  frailty  before  us,  how  often  should  we  be  tempt- 
ed to  despair  at  the  thought  of  our  manifold  infirmities! 

What  shall  we  think  of  that  vice  which  robs  a  man 
of  himself,  and  leaves  a  beast  in  his  rooml  Ham  be- 
holds, and  laughs  at  the  humiliation  of  his  parent  and 
preserver.    Better  had  that  ungracious  son  perished  in 

Script,  nkc  -* 


26 

the  waters,  than  that  he  should  have  lived  to  receive 
liis  father's  curse.  The  modest  sorrow  of  his  brethren, 
which  drew  on  them  a  blessing,  is  their  praise  and  our 
example.  The  sins  of  those  we  love  and  honor  we  must 
hear  of  with  indignation — fearfully  and  unwillingly  be- 
lieve— acknowledge  with  grief  and  shame — hide  with 
honest  excuses — and  bury  in  silence. 


5.— ABRAHAM. 

How  soon  are  men  and  sins  multiplied  !  While  thc^ 
ee  before  them  the  fearful  monuments  of  their  ances 
tors'  ruin,  how  quickly  have  they  forgotten  a  flood!  1. 
was  a  proud  word,  "  Come,  let  us  build  us  a  city  and  a 
tower,  whose  top  may  reach  to  heaven."  Most  shame- 
ful arrogance — most  ignorant  presumption  in  man,  who 
is  a  worm — in  the  son  of  man,  who  is  a  worm!  God 
wills  us  to  look  up  towards  heaven  with  lively  faith — 
with  humble  and  fervent  desires,  not  with  the  proud 
imaginations  of  our  own  achievements ;  but  haughty 
and  frantic  ambition  knows  no  limits,  and  so  the  Al- 
mighty directs  his  indignation  against  it. 

Lo !  his  divine  power  arrests  them  in  the  midst  of 
their  course  j  by  dividing  their  tongues  he  frustrates 
their  work,  and  mocks  the  impiety  of  the  workmen. 
How  easily  can  he  control  or  bring  to  nothing  the  great- 
est projects  of  men  !  Wicked  acts,  which  begin  in  vain- 
glory, do  for  the  most  part  terminate  in  shame.  After- 
Avards  there  was  a  time  when  what  was  here  effected  as 
0.  punishment^  took  place,  by  the  inspiration  of  God,  for 
a  blessing  to  the  church,  that  the  sound  of  the  glorious 
Gospel  might  be  heard  amidst  the  people,  the  nations 
and  the  languages.    But  alas !  to  this  day  in  our  spiritual 


ABRAHAM.  27 

Sion  the  building  doth  not  advance,  because  our  tongues 
are  divided.  Happy  would  it  be  for  the  church  of  God 
if  there  we  all  spake  but  one  language.  While  we  live 
in  divscord  we  can  build  nothing  but  confusion.  Differ- 
ence of  tongues  caused  the  Babel  of  these  sinners  to 
cease,  but  it  promotes  the  height  of  ours. 

In  the  land  whose  inhabitants  thus  rebelled  against  a 
God  of  justice  and  mercy  the  holy  patriarch  Abraham  is 
born,  but  he  is  directed  to  seek  elsewhere  for  his  abode. 

It  was  fit  that  he  who  was  to  be  the  father  and  pattern 
of  the  faithful  should  be  thoroughly  tried.  No  son  of 
Abraham  must  shrink'  from  difficulties,  or  expect  to  es- 
cape temptations,  when  he  sees  that  bosom  on  which 
hereafter  he  desires  to  repose  assaulted  by  such  innu- 
merable trials.  Abraham  must  leave  his  country  and 
kindred,  and  dwell  among  strangers.  The  earth  is  the 
Lord's,  and  all  places  are  alike  to  the  wise  and  faithful. 
If  Chaldea  had  not  been  grossly  idolatrous  Abraham  had 
not  quitted  it,  but  no  bond  must  tie  us  to  the  danger  of 
infection. 

Yet  whither  must  he  go  1  to  a  place  he  knew  not — to 
men  that  knew  not  him.  It  is  comfort  enough  to  a  good 
man,  wheresoever  he  is,  that  he  is  acquainted  with  God  : 
we  cannot  be  out  of  the  way  while  we  follow  his  holy 
calling.  Never  did  any  man  lose  by  his  obedience  to 
the  Most  High.  Because  Abraham  yielded,  God  gives 
him  the  inheritance  of  Canaan  ;  and  the  faith  which  thus 
takes  possession,  equals  that  which  first  led  him  to  quit 
his  native  country.  Behold,  Abraham  takes  possession 
for  that  progeny  which  he  had  not — which  in  nature  it 
was  not  probable  he  should  have.  He  takes  possession 
of  that  land  whereof  himself  should  never  have  one 
foot  ;  wherein  his  descendants  should  not  be  settled  till 
almost  five  hundred  years  after.  The  power  of  faith  can 
anticipate  time,  and  make  future  things  present.  If  we 
are  the  true  sons  of  Abraham,  we  are  already,  while  we 


28  hall's  scripture  history. 

80Journ  here  on  earth,  possessors  of  our  land  of  pro- 
mise ;  while  we  seek  our  country  we  have  it. 

Canaan  doth  not  afford  him  bread,  which  yet  must 
flow  with  milk  and  honey  to  his  posterity.  Sense  must 
still  yield  to  faith.  He  must  depart  into  the  land  of 
Egypt,  and  there  seek  the  relief  which  elsewhere  he 
may  not  find.  Thrice  hath  Egypt  preserved  the  church 
of  God — in  Abraham,  in  Jacob,  in  Christ.  The  Almighty 
often  makes  use  of  the  world  for  the  benefit  of  his  chil- 
dren ;  and  even  the  wicked  in  many  instances  eflfect  his 
good  purpose,  while  themselves  are  intending  only  evil. 

The  famine  is  past ;  the  patriarch  returns,  and  with 
him  the  wife  of  his  bosom,  and  Lot,  the  companion  of 
his  exile  ;  while  Canaan,  as  if  it  would  atone  for  its  late 
scarcity,  now  brings  forth  by  handfuls,  even  to  these 
strangers.  Before  they  grew  rich  they  dwelt  together} 
now  their  wealth  separates  them ;  their  society  was  a 
greater  benefit  than  their  riches.  How  many  are  griev- 
ous sufferers  by  that  which  the  world  holds  dearest ! 

It  was  the  duty  of  Lot  to  yield  to  the  brother  of  his 
father,  not  to  contend  and  stipulate.  Who  would  not 
think  Abraham  the  younger  and  Lot  the  elder  1  It  is  no 
disparagement  to  the  greatest  persons  to  commence  a 
treaty  of  peace.  Better  does  it  become  every  servant 
of  God  to  win  with  love  than  to  sway  with  power.  Abra- 
ham resigns  his  pre-eminence — Lot  takes  it.  And  be- 
hold, Lot  is  crossed  in  that  he  chose ;  Abraham  is  bless- 
ed in  that  which  was  left  him.  God  will  not  fail  to  re- 
ward him  who  meekly  resigns  his  right  in  the  desire  of 
peace. 

Lot  sees  the  fertile  plains  watered  by  Jordan — the 
richness  of  the  soil — the  benefit  of  the  rivers — the  situ- 
ation of  the  cities;  and  without  inquiring  further,  he 
takes  up  his  abode  in  Sodom.  Twice  did  he  pay  dear 
for  his  rashness.  He  departed  peaceably  from  his  near- 
est friend  \  ho  finds  war  with  strangers  j  he  is  deprived 


ikBRAHAM.  29 

of  his  liberty  and  substance  by  powerful  enemies.  Now 
must  Abraham  rescue  him  by  whom  he  had  been  for- 
saken. That  wealth  which  was  the  cause  of  his  former 
quarrels  is  made  a  prey  to  merciless  heathens;  that 
place  which  his  eye  covetously  chose  endangers  his  life 
and  his  possessions.  Christians,  '.hile  they  have  sought 
for  gain,  have  too  frequently  lost  themselves. 

Yet  this  ill  success  hath  not  induced  Lot  to  depart 
from  that  widked  region  which,  if  it  had  been  taught 
repentance  by  the  sword,  would  have  escaped  the  fire. 
Even  this  visitation  Jiath  not  made  ten  good  men  in 
those  five  cities.  Only  Lot  vexed  his  righteous  soul  at 
their  wickedness.  He  vexed  his  oxen  soul,  for  he  staid 
there  with  his  own  consent ;  but  because  he  was  vexed 
he  is  delivered — he  is  rescued  from  the  judgments  of 
God— he  becomes  an  host  to  angels.  The  houses  of 
holy  men  are  full  of  these  heavenly  spirits,  whom  they 
know  not  j  they  pitch  their  tents  in  ours^  visit  us  when 
we  see  not,  and  when  we  feel  not  protect  us. 

Wickedness  hath  but  a  time ;  its  punishment  inevita- 
bljr,  however  slowly,  approaches.  Short  and  dangerous 
was  the  residue  of  that  night  in  which  the  patriarch  re- 
ceived his  heavenly  guests.  Yet  still  he  goes  forth  to 
seek  his  sons-in-law.  No  good  man  wishes  to  be  happy 
alone ;  faith  makes  us  charitable  at  the  hazard  of  our 
own  safety.  He  warns  them  like  a  prophet,  and  advises 
them  like  a  father,  but  in  vain  ;  he  seems  to  them  as  one 
that  mocked,  and  they  do  more  than  seem  to  mock  him 
in  return.  Thus,  to  carnal  minds  preaching  is  foolish, 
devotion  useless,  the  prophets  madmen,  Paul  a  vain  bab- 
bler.   He  that  believeth  not  is  condemned  already. 

O  the  bounty  of  God,  which  extends  not  to  us  only, 
h\xi  ours!  He  preserves  Lot  for  Abraham's  sake,  and 
even  the  city  Zoar  for  Lot's  sake.  Were  it  not  that  the 
children  of  God  are  intermixed  with  the  world,  that 
world  could  not  stand  ;  the  wicked  owe  their  lives  to 


30  hall's  scripture  history. 

those  few  good  men,  whom  they  hate  and  persecute. 
Now  the  sun  rises  on  Zoar,  and  fire  falls  down  on  So- 
dom. Abraham  stands  upon  the  hill  and  sees  the  cities 
burning.  His  faith  is  confirmed,  while  his  heart  is  rent 
with  pity  for  those  in  whose  behalf  he  had  pleaded 
with  his  God. 

The  angel,  who  came  down  from  heaven  in  wrath  to 
visit  Sodom,  brought  to  Abraham  a  message  of  peace, 
and  announced  the  near  approach  of  the  promised  seed. 
The  holy  man  hears  the  tidings  with  joy.  Sarah  mis- 
trusts, and  fears,  and  doubts,  and  yet  hides  her  difii- 
dence  j  till,  reproved  for  her  infidelity  by  Him  who  is 
a  discerner  of  the  thoughts  and  intents  of  the  heart, 
she  is  at  length  convinced  of  his  omnipotence. 

Abraham  believeth  God,  and  it  is  accounted  to  him 
for  righteousness.  It  is  enough  for  him  that  God  hath 
said  it.  He  sees  not  the  means,  he  sees  the  promise. 
He  knows  that  his  posterity  shall  be  as  the  stars  of 
heaven,  though  as  yet  he  has  no  child.  Faith  is  ever 
recompensed  with  blessings.  Isaac  is  born  to  Sarah  and 
to  Abraham. 


6.— ISAAC. 

But  these  are  in  comparison  easy  tasks  of  faith — all 
ages  have  stood  amazed  at  the  next,  not  knowing 
whether  they  should  more  wonder  at  God's  command 
or  the  obedience  of  his  servant.  Many  years  that  good 
patriarch  waited  for  his  son.  Now  he  hath  joyfully  re- 
ceived him,  and  with  him  the  gracious  promise,  ''  In 
Isaac  shall  thy  seed  be  called."  Behold,  the  son  of  his 
age,  the  son  of  his  love,  the  son  of  his  expectation 
must  die  by  the  hand  of  this  wretched  father.    '^  Take 


ISAAC.  3 1 

thine  only  son  Isaac,  whom  thou  lovest,  and  go  to  the 
land  of  Moriah,  and  offer  him  there  for  a  burnt  of- 
fering." 

Never  was  any  gold  tried  in  so  fierce  a  fire.  But  God 
knew  that  he  spake  to  an  Abraham  j  and  Abraham 
knew  that  he  w^as  commanded  by  a  God.  Faith  had 
taught  him  not  to  argue,  but  obey.  He  is  sure  that 
what  God  commands  is  good — that  what  he  promises 
is  infallible — and  therefore  he  is  careless  of  the  ?nea7is, 
and  trusts  to  the  end.  We  hear  him  not  exclaiming, 
*'VVhat!  doth  the  God  of  mercies  delight  in  blood  ^. 
Can  murder  become  pfety  1  Can  I  not  be  faithful  unless 
I  am  unnatural  1  Why  did  I  wait  so  long  for  my  son  1 
Why  didst  thou  give  him  me  1  Why  is  he  so  dutiful, 
•so  dear,  so  hopeful]  Why  didst  thou  promise  me  a 
blessing  in  him  1  When  Isaac  is  gone,  w^here  is  my 
blessing  ]  0  God,  if  thy  commands  and  purposes  be 
cnpable  of  alteration,  let  thy  first  word  stand — rescind 
this  dreadful  sentence !" 

These  would  have  been  the  thoughts  of  an  unstable 
heart.  The  good  patriarch  rises  early  and  prepares 
himself  for  his  sad  journey.  And  now  he  must  travel 
three  whole  days  to  the  place  appointed ;  and  still  must 
Isaac  be  in  his  eye,  w^hom  all  this  while  in  his  imagina- 
tion ho  sees  expiring.  There  is  nothing  so  miserable  as 
to  dwell  under  the  expectation  of  a  great  evil.  Inevita- 
ble misfortune  is  mitigated  by  speed  and  aggravated 
by  delay.  All  this  time  had  Abraham  leisure  to  return. 
Now  when  they  are  come  in  sight  of  the  chosen  moun- 
tain the  attendants  are  dismissed.  What  a  devotion  is 
this,  that  will  abide  no  witnesses?  Alas,  what  stranger 
could  have  endured  to  see  the  father  carry  the  knife 
and  fire,  instruments  of  that  death  which  he  had  rather 
suffer  than  inflict?  to  see  the  son  carrying  that  load  on 
which  he  was  so  soon  to  be  extended  as  a  victim  ? 

But  what  must  be  the   strength  of  Abraham's  faith, 


32  hall's  scriptube  histoky. 

that  he  could  endure  the  question  of  his  dear,  his  in- 
nocent, his  religious  child  1  "  My  father,  behold  the  fire 
and  the  wood — but  where  is  the  lamb  for  a  burnt-offer- 
ing 1"  Did  not  that  one  word,  "  My  father,"  inflict  on 
the  patriarch  a  death  far  more  cruel  than  he  could  pos- 
eibly  inflict  on  his  son  1  Yet  still  the  pious  parent  con- 
ceals, persists,  and  where  he  means  not,  prophesies, 
''My  son,  God  himself  shall  provide  a  lamb  for  the 
burnt-offering." 

Reluctantly  do  the  heavy  tidings  come  forth — it  was 
torment  to  Abraham  to  say  what  he  must  do.  He  knows 
his  own  faith,  he  knows  not  the  constancy  of  his  son. 
But  now,  when  Isaac  hath  assisted  in  building  the  altar 
on  which  he  must  be  offered,  he  hears  the  strange  com- 
mand of  God,  the  final  will  of  his  father.  "  My  son,  thou 
art  the  lamb  which  God  hath  provided  for  this  burnt- 
offering.  If  my  blood  would  have  excused  thee,  how 
many  thousand  times  had  I  rather  give  thee  mine  own 
life  than  take  thine !  Alas,  I  am  full  of  days,  and  for  a 
long  season  have  only  lived  in  thee.  Thou  mightst  have 
preserved  the  life  of  thy  father,  have  comforted  his 
death,  have  closed  his  eyes — but  the  God  of  us  both 
has  chosen  thee.  He  that  gave  thee  to  me  miraculously, 
bids  me,  by  an  unusual  method,  return  thee  to  himself. 
It  is  needless  to  tell  thee  that  I  sacrifice  all  my  worldly 
joys,  yea,  and  myself  in  thee.  But  God  must  be  obey- 
ed ;  neither  art  thou  too  dear  for  him  that  calls  thee. 
Come  then,  my  son,  restore  the  life  which  God  hath 
given  thee  by  me — offer  thyself  willingly  on  this  altar- 
send  up  thy  soul  cheerfully  to  thy  glory — and  know, 
that  God  loves  thee  above  others,  since  he  requires 
thee  alone  to  be  consecrated  in  sacrifice  to  himself!" 

Who  cannot  imagine  with  what  perplexed  and  min- 
gled passions,  with  what  changes  of  countenance,  what 
doubts,  what  fears,  what  amazement,  the  youth  received 
this  sudden    message  from  the  mouth   of   his  father  1 


ISAAC.  33 

But  when  he  had  composed  his  thoughts,  and  considered 
that  the  author  was  God,  the  actor  Abraham,  the  act  a 
sacrifice,  he  approves  himseh'  no  degenerate  child  of 
such  a  parent.  Now  he  encourages  the  trembling  hand 
of  his  father — offers  his  hands  and  feet  to  the  cords,  his 
bosom  to  the  knife,  his  body  to  the  altar.  O  holy  emu- 
lation of  faith!  O  blessed  agreement  of  the  sacrificer 
and  the  oblation !  Abraham  no  longer  delays  the  fatal 
act  of  obedience — he  binds  those  dear  hands,  he  lays 
his  sacrifice  on  the  wood. 

And  now  having  given  him  a  last  embrace,  not  with- 
out mutual  tears,  he  lifts  up  his  hand  to  inflict  the  stroke 
of  death  at  once.  Now  the  stay  of  Abraham,  the  pro- 
mised seed,  the  hope  of  the  Church,  the  beloved  of  God, 
lies  prepared  to  bleed  under  the  hand  of  a  father. 

What  heart  would  be  unmoved  at  such  a  spectacle  as 
the  patriarch  and  his  Isaac  at  this  moment  afforded! 
What  heathen,  however  barbarous,  who  had  been  now 
on  the  hill  of  Moriah,  and  had  beheld  the  weapon  of  a 
parent  uplifted  against  such  a  son,  would  not  have 
been  overwhelmed  with  horror  and  amazement  1  Yet  he 
whom  it  most  nearly  concerned  remains  unshaken.  In 
his  pious  soul  faith  and  patience  have  their  perfect 
work.  He  contemns  all  fears — he  overlooks  all  impos- 
sibilities. His  heart  tells  him,  that  the  same  povi^er, 
which  by  miracle  gave  him  his  son,  by  miracle  could 
raise  him  again  from  the  ashes  of  his  sacrifice.  Thus 
fortified,  thus  elevated  above  nature  itself,  he  prepares 
for  the  last  dreadful  act,  when  suddenly  the  angel  of  the 
Lord  stays  his  arm — forbids  him — commends  him !  , 

I  The  voice  of  God  was  never  so  welcome,  never  so 
seasonable  as  now.  It  was  the  trial  he  intended,  not  the 
fact,  Isaac  is  sacrificed,  and  is  yet  alive — and  now  the 
joy  and  rapture  of  these  saints  of  God  make  amends  to 
them  for  all  the  sorrows  which  they  had  sustained. 
The  commands  of  God  are  often  harsh  in  the  beginning, 

2* 


34.  uall's  scripture  history* 

but  in  the  conclusion  always  full  of  comfort.  True  spi- 
ritual consolation  is  frequently  delayed.  God  defers  it 
on  purpose,  that  our  trials  may  be  perfect,  our  deliver- 
ance welcome,  our  recompense  glorious.  Isaac  had  ne- 
ver been  so  precious  to  his  father,  if  he  had  not  been 
recovered  from  death — if  he  had  not  been  as  wonder- 
fully restored  as  given.  Abraham  had  never  been  blessed 
in  his  posterity,  if  he  had  not  neglected  Isaac  for  God. 
The  only  way  to  find  comfort  in  any  earthly  thing  is 
to  surrender  it  into  the  hands  of  the  Almighty,  in  pious 
resignation. 

,  Abraham  came  to  sacrifice— his  purpose  is  not  frus- 
trated. Behold,  a  ram  stands  ready  for  the  burnt-offering, 
and  as  it  were  offers  himself  to  the  exchange.  What 
mysteries  are  there  in  every  act  of  God!  Here,  even 
here,  in  after  ages,  the  only  Son  of  God  is  on  this  moun- 
tain laid  on  the  altar  of  his  cross,  a  true  ^crifice  for 
the  world — yet  is  he  raised  without  any  real  injury,  and 
exempted  from  the  power  of  death.  Here  is  he  offered 
and  accepted — here  his  death  and  his  rising  proclaim 
him  doubly  a  Savior.  The  patriarch  Abraham  saw  this 
glorious  day  with  the  eye  of  faith — he  saw  it,  and  was 
glad. 

,  Whatsoever  is  dearest  to  us  is  our  Isaac — happy  are 
we  if  we  can  offer  it  to  God.  They  shall  never  rest  with 
Abraham  who  cannot  sacrifice  with  Abraham. 


7.~J  A  C  0  B  . 

Of  all  the  patriarchs  none  lived  so  privately  or  so 
peaceably  as  Isaac.  Distinguished  for  his  filial  piety 
and  conjugal  affection,  faithful  to  his  God,  dutiful  to 
bis  parents,  a   chaste    observer  of  nnptinl    fidelity,  he 


JACOB.  35 

paibsed  his  days  in  the  contemplation  and  the  tranquil- 
lity that  he  so  loved. 

But  the  life  of  Jacob  was  busy  and  troublesome  ;  none 
of  the  patriarchal  race  saw  such  evil  days  as  he  from 
whom  the  militant  Israel  of  God  hath  taken  its  name. 

There  is  nothing  but  conflict  to  be  expected  where 
grace  is  put  in  competition  with  nature. 

Esau  hath  the  right  of  primogeniture,  Jacob  that  of 
promise  ;  yet  to  this  he  adds  that  of  purchase  too.  The 
careless,  unbelieving  Esau  barters  for  a  poor  considera- 
tion what  in  fact  was  not  rightfully  his  own — what  was 
now  his  brother's  by  every  law  divine  and  human.  Ne- 
ver, except  the  forbidden  fruit,  was  food  so  dearly  pur- 
chased as  this  repast  of  Esau  ! 

But  what  hath  Jacob  gained,  if  the  fondness  of  Isaac 
for  his  first-born  shall  countervail  both  the  purchase  and 
the  promise  ?  Blinded  by  age  and  by  affection,  Isaac 
prepares  to  bestow  on  Esau  that  blessing  which  be- 
longed only  to  the  birthright  he  had  assigned  to  his 
brother,  and  on  which  depended  the  precious  privilege 
of  being  ancestor  to  the  Messiah.  The  dearest  of  God's 
saints  have  sometimes  been  overcome  by  too  great  ten- 
derness of  heart.  Isaac  knew  the  oracle  of  God  that  the 
elder  of  his  sons  should  serve  the  younger.  He  (no 
doubt)  knew  that  profane  contempt  wherewith  Esau 
had  rejected  the  privileges  of  his  birth.  He  saw  him 
forming  impious  alliances  with  heathens — and  yet  he 
will  consider  nothing  but  his  own  unjust  partiality. 
How  gracious  is  God,  who,  when  we  would  sin,  doth 
often  interpose  his  providence,  and  so  orders  our  ac- 
tions, that  w^e  do,  not  what  we  would.,  but  what  we 
ought  I 

Lo,  the  affections  of  the  parents  are  divided  that  the 
promise  may  be  fulfilled.  Isaac  would  unjustly  bestow 
on  Esau  that  which  was  Jacob's  ;  Rebecca,  with  equal 
injustice,  teaches  Jacob  to  personate  Esau.    The  mother 


36 

shall  rather  defeat  the  son  and  beguile  the  father,  than 
the  father  shall  beguile  the  chosen  son  of  his  blessing. 
Her  desire  was  good  j  the  means  she  used  to  effect  it 
were  unlawful.  God  often  accomplishes  his  purpose  by 
means  of  our  infirmity;  yet  neither  is  our  weakness 
thereby  justified,  nor  his  unerring  justice  impeached. 

Here  was  nothing  but  illusion.  The  person,  the  name, 
the  food,  the  answer,  all  counterfeit — yet  behold  a  true 
blessing  !  Jacob  fears  the  failure  o[  his  stratagem,  the 
disappointm'ent  of  his  hopes,  the  curse  of  his  father. 
Rebecca,  presuming  on  the  oracle  of  God  and  the  un- 
Buspicious  temper  of  her  husband,  dares  be  surety  for 
the  danger,  counsels  her  son  in  his  procedure,  assists 
him  in  its  progress,  seeks  to  obviate  every  difficulty 
which  may  arise,  and  only  regrets  that  while  she  invests 
Jacob  with  the  garment  of  Esau,  she  cannot  at  the  same 
time  give  him  the  voice.  But  this  is  past  her  remedy. 
Her  son  must  name  himself  Esau  in  the  accent  of  Jacob. 
No  doubt,  if  Isaac  by  any  of  his  senses  had  discerned 
the  fraud,  she  herself  w^ould  have  stood  forth,  would 
have  taken  on  her  own  head  all  the  blame,  would  have 
urged  the  known  will  of  God  concerning  the  servitude 
of  Esau  and  the  dominion  of  Jacob,  which  age  and 
partiality  had  blotted  out  from  the  memory  of  their 
father. 

He  who  is  good  himself  is  unwilling  to  believe  evil 
of  another ;  and  will  rather  distrust  his  own  senses  than 
the  fidelity  of  those  he  loves.  Yet  to  deceive  the  ear 
of  his  father,  Jacob  must  second  his  dissimulation 
with  falsehood.  0  Jacob,  I  love  thy  blessing,  but  I  hate 
thy  method  of  obtaining  it.  I  would  not  venture  thy 
fraud  to  obtain  a  benediction  from  the  holiest  of  men; 
for  God  who  pardoned  thy  weakness  would  punish  my 
wilful  transgression. 

Isaac  believes,  and  blesses  his  younger  son  in  the  gar- 
ments of  the  elder ;  and  Jacob  is  no  sooner  gone  away 


JACOB.  37 

wiih  joy,  than  Esau  comes  in  with  presumptuous  expec- 
tation. Jacob  had  obtained  that  by  wrong  which  was 
by  riglit  his  own.  Esau,  not  regarding  his  voluntary  ab 
dication  of  his  birthright,  dares  yet  hope  for  the  privi- 
lege he  had  wantonly  cast  away  from  him. 

But  the  hopes  of  the  wicked  fail  them  when  they 
are  at  the  highest,  and  Esau,  who  in  his  father's  bless- 
ing sought  only  present  benefit,  meets  with  nothing  but 
a  repulse.  Lo,  Isaac  now  trembles,  and  Esau  weeps. 
Who  would  trust  tears  when  we  see  them  fall  from 
such  graceless  eyesi 

Isaac  trembles,  on  tiie  conviction  of  his  conscience. 
His  heart  now  told  him  that  he  should  not  have  purpos- 
ed the  blessing  where  he  did,  and  that  it  was  due  to 
him  who  had  obtained  it.  Hence  he  durst  not  reverse 
what  he  had  done  by  the  will  of  God  and  not  his  own. 

It  was  a  good  w^ord,  "  Bless  me  also,  O  my  father  !" 
Every  miscreant  can  wish  himself  well.  No  man  would 
be  miserable  if  it  were  enough  to  desire  happiness.  But 
the  tears  of  Esau  were  false  and  unholy !  they  were  the 
tears  of  rage,  of  envy,  of  carnal  desire  ;  they  proceed- 
ed from  that  worldly  sorrow  w^iich  causeth  death.  He  did 
not  see  that  God  was  just  in  all  that  had  befallen  him; 
he  knew  himself  profane,  and  yet  he  claims  a  blessing. 

And  now,  like  a  second  Cain,  he  resolves  to  kill  his 
brother  because  that  brother  w^as  more  worthy.  He 
lonofs  for  the  death  of  Isaac,  and  meditates  that  of 
Jacob  J  who,  to  escape  his  present  indignation,  flies 
from  the  cruel  Esau  to  the  cruel  Laban.  With  a  sta(l 
he  goes  over  Jordan,  alone,  doubtful  and  comfortless. 
In  the  way  the  earth  is  his  bed  and  a  stone  his  pillow; 
yet  even  then  his  heart  is  full  of  joy  ;  he  beholds  a  vi- 
sion of  angels  ;  he  hears  his  father's  blessing  echoed  to 
him  from  heaven.  God  is  most  present  with  us  in  our 
greatest  dejection,  and  loves  to  give  comfort  to  those 
who  are  forsaken  of  their  hopes. 


S8 

Jacob  travels  far,  and  meets  with  little  friendship  at 
the  end  of  his  journey.  No  doubt,  when  Laban  heard 
of  his  approach  he  looked  for  the  camels  and  attend- 
ants which  summoned  Rebecca  from  her  native  coun- 
try !  he  supposed  that  the  son  of  Isaac  would  not  come 
with  less  grandeur  than  the  servant  of  Abraham.  Now, 
when  he  sees  him  alone  and  unattended,  he  beholds  in 
him  not  a  kinsman  but  a  slave. 

Lo,  he  serves  seven  years  for  his  Rachel,  and  at  the 
end  is  beguiled  by  the  subtlety  of  Laban,  and  compell- 
ed to  be  the  unwilling  husband  of  Leah.  In  the  substi- 
tution of  the  elder  daughter  for  the  younger  he  could 
jiot  but  remember  his  own  past  treachery.  At  a  mo- 
ment when  we  think  not,  God  often  repays  us  our  sins 
by  the  sins  of  others.  Other  seven  years  must  he  serve 
for  Rachel.  What  miseries  will  not  love  overcome  1  If 
Jacob  was  willingly  consumed  in  the  day  by  the  heat, 
and  in  the  night  by  the  frost,  to  become  the  son-in-law 
of  Laban,  O  what  should  we  refuse  to  become  the  sons 
of  Godl 

But  while  Laban  only  considers  his  own  advantage, 
God  provides  for  his  faithful  servant — whose  wealth 
(after  twenty  years)  renders  him  an  object  of  envy  to 
the  proud  sons  of  a  cruel  father.  Jacob  is  constrained  to 
flee  as  from  an  enemy ;  Laban,  as  an  enemy,  pursues 
him — meanwhile  an  army  of  men  are  conducted  against 
him  by  Esau,  with  equally  hostile  intentions.  But  he 
who  can  wrestle  earnestly  with  God  is  secure  from  the 
harms  of  men.  Laban  leaves  Jacob,  and  Esau  meets  him 
with  a  kiss.  Who  shall  need  to  fear  that  is  in  league 
with  Go-d  I  When  a  man's  ways  please  the  Lord  he 
maketh  even  his  enemies  to  be  at  peace  with  him. 

Yet  how  many  are  the  troubles  of  the  righteous ! 
Rachel,  the  comfort  of  his  life,  dieth.  His  children,  the 
j^taff  o{  his  age,  wound  his  soul  to  the  death.  Simeon 
and  Levi  are  murderous — Reuben  and  Judah  incestuous 


JOSEPH.  39 

— Dinah  is  ravished — Joseph  is  lost — Simeon  is  im- 
prisoned— Benjamin,  the  right  hand  of  his  father,  is  en- 
dangered— and  Jacob  is  driven  by  famine  in  his  old  age 
to  die  amongst  the  Egyptians,  a  people  who  held  it 
abomination  to  eat  with  him.  What  son  of  Israel  can 
hope  for  good  days,  when  he  hears  that  his  father's 
were  so  evil  ]  It  is  enough  for  us,  if  when  we  are  dead 
we  can  rest  with  him  in  the  land  of  promise.  If  the 
Angel  of  the  covenant  once  bless  us,  no  pain,  no  sorrow 
can  make  us  miserable.  Many  are  the  troubles  of  the 
^'•nrhteous,  but  the  Lord  delivereth  him  oat  of  them  all. 


8.— JOSEPH. 

Suffering  is  ever  the  way  to  glory.  If  we  are  dear  to 
our  heavenly  Father  we  are  hated  by  our  carnal  breth- 
ren. Joseph  is  not  a  clearer  type  of  Christ,  than  of 
every  christian. 

How  unsearchable  are  the  ways  of  God!  How  do 
they  transcend  all  human  investigation  !  Had  it  not  been 
for  Joseph's  dreams,  he  had  not  been  sold  ;  had  he  not 
been  sold,  he  had  not  been  exalted.  Little  did  Joseph 
think,  when  he  went  to  seek  his  brethren,  that  he  should 
never  more  return  to  his  father's  house ;  little  did  his 
brethren  think,  when  they  sold  him  naked  to  the  Ish- 
maelites,  that  they  should  see  him  exalted  to  princely 
dignity  in  Egypt. 

While  Joseph  inquires  of  his  brethren's  health  they 
arc  plotting  his  destruction.  He  looked  for  kinsmen  and 
friends,  and  beheld  murderers  !  Each  one  strives  who 
shall  lay  the  first  hand  on  the  many-colored  pledge  of  a 


40  r.\ll's  scmriURE  iiistort. 

father^s  fondness.  They  strip  him  naked,  cast  him  alive 
into  his  grave,  and,  in  pretence  of  forbearance,  resolve  to 
aggravate  his  misery  by  a  death  of  protracted  anguish. 

All  this  while  Joseph  wanted  neither  words  nor  tears 
• — the  passionate  suppliant  entreated  them,  by  the  dear 
name  of  their  brotherhood,  by  their  adoration  of  one 
common  God,  for  their  father's  sake,  for  their  own  soul's 
sake,  not  to  sin  against  his  blood.  But  envy  hath  shut 
out  mercy,  and  made  them  forget  themselves,  not  only 
to  be  brethren,  but  men.  While  the  noise  of  his  lamen- 
tation is  in  their  ears,  they  sit  down  to  eat  bread,  with- 
out one  sensation  of  remorse  at  their  having  condemned 
the  innocent  darling  of  their  father  to  perish  with  hunger. 

And  now,  while  he  hath  nothing  in  prospect  but 
present  death,  behold  it  exchanged  for  bondage.  God 
will  ever  raise  up  some  secret  favorers  to  his  children, 
even  among  their  bitterest  enemies.  At  the  instigation 
of  Judah,  a  company  of  Ishmaelites  passing  by,  pur- 
chase a  treasure  far  more  precious  than  all  their  balm 
and  myrrh.  From  the  pit  where  he  lay  naked  and  lan- 
guishing they  receive  into  their  hands  the  lord  of 
Egypt,  the  delight  and  ornament  of  the  world. 

He  who  is  mourned  for  in  Canaan  as  dead,  prospers  in 
Egypt  in  the  house  of  Potiphar,  and  instead  of  a  slave  is 
made  a  ruler — but  lo,  again  his  obedience  to  God  and 
unshaken  adherence  to  liis  duty  make  him  the  victim 
of  malice  and  revenge.  Disappointed  lust,  hatred  burn, 
ing  furiously  in  the  heart  of  a  woman,  procure  him  an 
unjust  and  cruel  imprisonment.  The  patriarch  submits 
in  f>ilence--he  knows  that  God  will  find  a  time  to  clear 
his  innocence,  to  reward  his  chaste  fidelity. 

No  sooner  is  Joseph  a  prisoner  than  he  is  a  gvar* 
dian  of  the  prisoners.  Trust  and  honor  accompany  him 
wheresoever  he  is.  In  his  father's  house,  in  Potiphar's, 
in  the  prison,  in  the  palace,  still  hath  he  both  favor 
and  rale. 


JOSEPH.  41 

After  two  years  of  Joseph's  patience,  God  calls  him 
to  more  distinguished  honor — sends  a  dream  to  Pha- 
raoh— imparts  the  interpretation  to  Joseph.  Lo,  from  a 
miserable  prisoner  the  youth  is  made  ruler  of  Egypt ! 
One  hour  hath  changed  his  fetters  into  a  chain  of  gold, 
and  the  captive  of  Potiphar  is  lord  over  his  ancient 
master.  Humility  goes  before  honor — sorrow  and  suf* 
fering  are  the  best  instructors  to  those  who  are  called 
to  dignity.  How  well  are  the  children  of  God  repaid 
for  their  patience  !  Never  doth  he  neglect  them  j  least 
of  all  in  the  day  of  their  afflictions. 

Pharaoh  prefers  Joseph — Joseph  enriches  Pharaoh. 
If  Joseph  had  not  ruled,  Egypt  had  been  undone — now 
the  subjects  are  indebted  to  him  for  life,  the  king  for 
liis  supremacy — the  bounty  of  God  made  his  servant 
able  to  give  more  than  he  received. 

No  piety  can  exempt  us  from  the  common  visitations 
of  God.  The  holy  Jacob  is  afflicted  by  the  famine  which 
desolates  the  land  of  his  pilgrimage.  No  man  can  tell 
by  the  outward  event,  which  is  the  patriarch  and  which 
the  Canaanite.  His  ten  sons  must  now  leave  their 
flocks  and  go  down  into  Egypt.  They  must  humbly  bow 
the  knee  to  him  who  was  once  the  object  of  their  scorn- 
ful cruelty.  His  habit,  his  language,  his  dignity  kept 
Joseph  from  their  thoughts — while  nothing  tends  to 
prevent  his  immediate  recollection  of  those  whom  he 
has  more  reason  to  view  as  enemies  than  as  brethren. 

Now  does  he  behold  the  accomplishment  of  his  an- 
cient dreams — now  thinks  he  fit  to  hide  his  love  from 
them  who  had  shown  him  so  much  hatred.  He  speaks 
roughly — rejects  their  persuasions — calls  them  spies- 
puts  them  all  in  hold — and  one  of  them  in  bonds.  The 
mind  must  not  always  be  judged  by  the  outward  actions. 
God's  countenance  is  often  severe  to  those  he  best  lov- 
eth.  What  song  could  be  so  delightful  to  the  patriarch 
as  to  hear  his  brethren  in  bitter  remorse  condemn  them- 


42  HALL  S    SCRIPTURE    IIISTORY. 

selves  for  their  former  cruelty,  before  him  who  was 
their  witness  and  judge  1  His  heart  is  melted — he  pi- 
ties them  with  tears — he  weeps  for  joy  to  see  their 
repentance. 

Yet  is  Simeon  left  in  fetters,  and  the  rest  go  back 
with  their  corn  and  with  their  money  to  their  father. 
Jacob  was  unused  to  perfect  happiness.  They  who 
bring  him  necessary  food,  bring  him  sad  tidings  of  the 
detention  of  one  son,  the  danger  of  another.  While  they 
prevent  his  dying  with  hunger,  they  pierce  his  heart 
with  new  sorrows. 

The  painful  separation  is  for  a  while  protracted  :  but 
at  length  his  Benjamin  must  depart.  No  plea  is  so 
importunate  as  that  of  famine.  The  brethren  return  to 
Egypt  laden  with  double  money,  and  with  a  present  in 
their  hands. 

Now  hath  Joseph  his  desire — now  doth  he  feast  his 
eyes  with  the  sight  of  that  dear  brother  whom  he  bor- 
Tows,  as  it  were,  for  a  season,  that  he  may  restore  him 
with  increase  of  joy.  Now  he  welcomes  them  whom 
once  he  threatened,  and  turns  their  fear  into  wonder. 
But  soon  their  fear  comes  back  with  tenfold  violence. 
Joseph,  by  a  feigned  accusation  of  Benjamin,  proves  his 
brethren  afresh,  that  he  may  redouble  their  joy  should 
he  deem  them  worthy  of  his  love. 

And  now,  when  Judah  tenderly  reports  the  danger  of 
his  aged  father,  and  the  sadness  of  his  last  complaint, 
and  his  fond  attachment  to  the  son  of  his  old  age,  com- 
passion and  transport  will  be  concealed  no  longer — they 
burst  forth  by  his  voice  and  at  his  eyes.  Joseph  sends 
out  his  servants,  that  he  might  freely  weep.  He  knew 
he  could  not  say,  "I  am  Joseph!"  without  the  most 
impassioned  vehemence. 

Never  any  word  sounded  like  this  in  the  ears  of  the 
jsons  of  Jacob.  What  marvel  if  they  stood  with  paleness 
and  silence  before  him,  while  the  more  they  believed 


JOSEPH.  43 

the  more  they  feared  !  "  I  am  Joseph,"  implies  to  their 
consciences,  ''  Ye  are  murderers  !  My  power  and  this 
place  give  me  all  opportunities  of  revenge.  My  glory  is 
your  shame,  my  life  your  danger,  your  sin  lives  together 
with  me."  But  soon  the  tears  and  gracious  words  of 
Joseph  assure  them  of  pardon  and  love,  and  change 
their  doubts  into  gladness.  Now  they  return  home  rich 
and  joyful,  and  make  themselves  happy  by  the  joy  they 
were  to  afford  their  father. 

The  return  of  Benjamin  was  acceptable— but  that  his 
dead  son  was  yet  alive  ^fter  so  many  years'  lamenta- 
tion, was  intelligence  too  rapturous  for  belief,  and  en- 
dangered the  life  of  Jacob  with  fulness  of  joy. 

Yet  his  eyes  revived  his  mind ;  and  when  he  saw  the 
chariots  of  his  son  he  believed  Joseph's  life,  and  sought 
earnestly  for  his  society.  "It  is  enough^Joseph  my 
son  is  yet  alive — I  will  go  down  and  see  him  before 
I  die."^ 

The  height  of  all  earthly  happiness  appeared  in  the 
meeting  of  the  father  and  his  son,  endeared  to  each 
other  by  their  mutual  loss.  God  doth  often  remove  our 
comforts  for  a  time,  that  we  may  be  more  joyful  in 
their  recovery.  This  was  the  most  unmixed  joy  the 
patriarch  ever  felt.  It  was  reserved  by  heaven  to  illu- 
mine the  evening  of  his  days. 

And  if  the  meeting  of  earthly  friends  be  so  delight- 
ful, how  happy  shall  we  be  in  the  sight  of  the  glorious 
God,  our  heavenly  Father !  of  that  blessed  Redeemer, 
whom  we  sold  to  death  by  our  sins,  and  who,  after  his 
noble  triumph,  hath  all  power  given  him  in  heaven  and 
earth ! 

Thus  did  Jacob  rejoice  when  he  was  to  go  out  of  the 
land  of  promise  into  a  foreign  nation  for  Joseph's  sake  j 
being  glad  to  lose  his  country  for  his  son.  O  what 
shall  our  joy  be  who  must  go  out  of  this  foreign  land 
of  our  pilgrimage  to  the  home  of  our  glorious  inherit- 


44  hall's  scripture  history. 

ance,  to  that  better  Goshen,  free  from  all  the  imperfec- 
tions of  this  Egypt,  and  full  of  all  the  riches  and  de- 
lights of  God  I 


9.— ISRAEL  IN  EGYPT. 

Egypt  was  long  a  place  of  refuge  to  the  Israelites — 
now  it  becomes  a  prison :  they  who  at  first  were  ho- 
nored as  lords,  are  now  held  in  contempt  as  slaves.  It 
is  a  rare  thing  to  find  posterity  heirs  of  ancient  love  j 
one  Pharaoh  advances  the  children  of  Jacob,  another 
labors  to  destroy  them.  How  should  the  favor  of  men 
be  otherwise  than  themselves,  variable  and  inconstant  1 
There  is  no  certainty  but  in  the  favor  of  God,  in  whom 
is  no  variableness,  whose  mercies  descend  without  in- 
terruption on  a  thousand  generations. 

If  the  Israelites  had  been  treacherous,  if  they  had 
been  disobedient,  there  had  been  some  pretence  for  this 
alienation.  Now  their  only  offence  is,  that  they  pros- 
per; that  which  should  bring  them  congratulation  be- 
comes the  cause  of  malice.  There  is  no  sight  so  hate- 
ful to  a  wicked  man  as  the  felicity  of  the  righteous. 

And  what  if  Israel  be  mighty  and  rich  1  "  If  there  be 
war,  they  may  join  with  our  adversaries."  It  is  easy 
for  those  who  seek  for  contention  to  find  a  plausible 
pretence  ;  here  were  no  wars,  no  adversaries,  no  hos- 
tile dispositions  on  the  part  of  Israel ;  yet  behold,  they 
enslave  their  certain  friends  for  fear  of  uncertain  ene- 
mies. Wickedness  is  ever  suspicious  and  cowardly,  it 
makes  men  fear  where  no  fear  is — makes  them  (lee 
when  none  pursucth.  David  saith,  ''  I  will  not  be  afraid 
for  ten  thousand   of  the  people   who  have  set    them- 


ISRAEL   IN    EGYPT.  45 

selves  against  me  round  about."  Pharaoh,  "  If  there  be 
war,  they  may  join  with  our  adversaries."  Was  not 
this  fear,  if  it  really  did  exist,  a  motive  for  his  treating 
them  with  kindness  1  Ought  he  not  to  have  shown  them 
favor,  that  they  might  have  adhered  steadfastly  to  his 
cause  1  That  a  people  so  great,  so  powerful,  might 
have  drawn  their  swords  in  his  behalf  1  Weak  and  base 
minds  ever  incline  to  the  least  noble  part;  favors  are 
more  binding  than  cruelties  j  yet  the  Egyptians  prefer 
a  nation  of  slaves  to  friends. 

"  Come  on,  let  us  work  wisely."  Evil  men  call  wick- 
ed politics  wisdom,  and  their  success  happiness,  while 
themselves  are  the  miserable  dupes  of  sin,  and  of  the 
great  deceiver,  who  lays  the  plot  and  teaches  his  de- 
luded followers  to  choose  villany  and  madness  instead 
of  true  wisdom  and  virtue. 

Injustice  is  upheld  by  violence;  task-masters  are  set 
over  Israel;  heavy  burdens  are  laid  upon  them;  the 
name  of  a  slave  is  added  to  that  of  a  stranger.  Too  pro- 
bable is  it,  that  the  children  of  Israel  had  sinned  during 
their  abode  among  an  idolatrous  nation,  and  that  He 
whom  they  had  offended,  now  made  them  suffer  for  their 
sins.  Had  they  not  deserved  the  burden  of  God's  anger, 
they  would  not  have  borne  the  burdens  of  the  Egyptians. 

But  as  God  afflicted  them  with  far  different  views 
than  Pharaoh,  (the  one  for  their  benefit,  the  other  for 
their  extinction,)  so  he  caused  the  events  to  differ. 
Who  would  not  have  thought  with  these  Egyptians 
that  the  extreme  misery  of  Israel  would  have  subdued 
and  diminished  themi  God,  who  worketh  according  to 
liis  almighty  wisdom,  causes  them  to  grow  with  de- 
pression, with  persecution  to  multiply  !  How  can  his 
church  be  dispirited  when  the  very  malice  of  their  ene- 
mies benefits  them — when  the  goodness  of  their  hea- 
venly Father  turns  even  poisons  into  cordials  1  The 
vine  which  Thou  broughtest  up  out  of  Egypt,  0  God, 


46  hall's  scripture  history. 

flourished  under  the  pruning-knife  which  sought  to 
destroy  it. 

And  will  not  the  Egyptians  abhor  their  own  malice 
when  they  see  the  prosperity  of  those  whom  they  thus 
unjustly  persecute!  Alas,  as  the  strength  of  Israel  in- 
creased, so  did  the  hatred  of  their  inveterate  enemies. 
Tyranny  will  try  what  can  be  done  by  the  violence  of 
others ;  women  must  be  suborned  to  be  murderers  ;  the 
male  children  must  be  born  and  die  at  once.  It  is  fault 
enough  to  be  the  son  of  an  Israelite.  Whosoever  gives 
a  loose  to  cruelty  is  easily  carried  into  incredible  ex- 
tremities of  guilt. 

From  burdens  they  proceed  to  bondage,  and  from 
bondage  to  blood.  There  is  no  sin  more  dangerous, 
more  desperate,  than  that  of  malice ;  but  the  power  of 
tyrants  often  fails  of  answering  their  will.  The  pro- 
moters of  mischief  cannot  always  meet  with  equally 
mischievous  agents. 

The  fear  of  God  teaches  these  w6men  to  disobey  an 
unjust  command  :  they  well  knew  that  human  injunc- 
tions are  not  a  sufficient  excuse  for  atrocious  acts.  God 
spake  to  their  hearts,  "  Thou  shalt  not  kill."  This  voice 
was  louder  than  that  of  Pharaoh — who,  while  he  saw 
that  they  rebelled  against  his  word,  was  prevented  by 
Omnipotence  from  executing  vengeance  on  them  for 
refusing  to  comply  with  his  impious  dictates. 

But  what  the  midwives  will  not  do  the  multitude 
shall  effect — it  were  strange  if  wicked  rulers  should  not 
find  some  instruments  of  violence.  All  the  people  arc 
called  upon  to  become  executioners  of  a  tyrant's  wrath. 
Now  doth  cruelty  flame  up ;  now  dares  it  proclaim  its 
odious  purpose.  It  is  a  miserable  state  where  every 
man  is  enjoined  to  be  a  murderer !  There  can  be  no 
greater  argument  of  a  bad  cause  than  a  bloody  per- 
secution. Truth  upholds  herself  by  mildness,  and  is 
promoted  by  patience. 


ISRAEL    IN    EGYPT.  47 

Such  was  their  inhuman  deed — what  was  the  con- 
sequence  1  They  who  thus  barbarously  destroyed  the 
children  of  the  Israelites,  by  the  just  retribution  of  God, 
are  deprived  of  their  own  children.  They  who  caused 
these  innocents  to  perish  in  the  waters  are  themselves 
afterwards  made  to  suffer  in  like  manner.  That  law 
of  retaliation  which  he  does  not  permit  his  creatures  to 
execute,  himself  with  unerring  justice  can  dispense. 
God  would  have  us  read  our  sins  in  our  punishment, 
that  we  may  at  once  repent  of  our  transgressions  and 
adore  his  righteous  judgments. 

In  the  process  of  time  another  king  of  Egypt  rises 
up,  but  to  continue,  not  to  deviate  from  the  policy  of 
his  predecessor.  The  cruelties  of  the  oppressor,  the 
sufferings  of  the  oppressed  are  the  same.  When  at  last 
he  received  a  message  from  heaven  commanding  him 
to  dismiss  the  people  of  God,  then  did  his  rage  grow 
frantic  :  he  was  like  the  vapor  in  a  cloud,  which  bursts 
with  a  fearful  noise  because  it  meets  with  opposition. 
A  good  heart  yields  to  the  still  voice  of  God  j  but  his 
merciful  commands  are  treated  with  obdurate  insolence 
by  the  wicked.  Pharaoh  takes  pleasure  in  the  servitude 
of  Israel.  God  calls  for  a  release;  and  requires  what  he 
knows  will  give  displeasure  to  the  tyrant  whom  he  ad- 
dresses. How  adverse  are  his  precepts  to  unregene- 
rate  souls !  It  is  a  dangerous  sign  of  an  evil  heart 
when  God's  yoke  is  deemed  heavy. 

God  speaks  of  sacrifice  ;  Pharaoh  of  work.  To  a  car- 
nal mind  nothing  seems  superfluous  but  religious  du- 
ties. Christ  tells  us  that  there  is  one  thing  needful  j  the 
world  insinuates  that  it  is  the  only  thing  absolutely 
needless.  God  calls  his  people  to  devotion ;  Pharaoh 
taxes  them  with  idleness.  While  the  wicked  cast  a 
specious  veil  over  their  own  enormities  they  vilify  the 
good  actions  of  others.  The  same  spirit  which  spake 
in  Pharaoh  now  calls  conscience  singularity,  and  reli- 


4-8  hall's  scripture  history. 

gion  hypocrisy.     Every  vice   hath   a   title,  and  every 
virtue  a  disgrace. 

Yet  while  possible  tasks  were  imposed  there  was 
some  comfort.  Diligence  might  then  preserve  them 
from  indignities.  But  to  require  what  is  not — cannot 
be  accomplished,  is  tyranny  in  the  extreme;  it  is  the 
very  madness  of  cruelty.  They  who  are  above  others 
in  power,  must  measure  their  commands,  not  by  their 
own  will,  but  by  the  ability  of  their  inferiors.  Tho 
task  is  not  done — the  task-masters  are  beaten — the 
children  of  Israel  sigh  for  anguish  of  spirit  and  for 
cruel  bondage — and  their  cry  comes  up  unto  God. 


10.— MOSES  BORN,  AND  CALLED. 

Many  times  doth  God  write  presages  of  majesty  and 
honor,  even  in  the  faces  of  children.  This  was  emi- 
nently the  case  with  Moses.  Yet  when  his  mother  be- 
held her  lovely  babe  with  fear  and  anxiety,  when  she 
looked  that  some  fierce  Egyptian  would  come  in  and 
snatch  him  from  her  bosom,  little  did  she  think  that 
she  held  in  her  arms  the  deliverer  of  Israel ! 

For  a  while  she  conceals  him  in  her  house  from  these 
messengers  of  death — but  when  she  sees  that  her  trea- 
sure can  be  no  longer  hid,  she  prepares  him  a  bark  of 
bulrushes  and  commits  him  to  the  mercy  of  the  waves, 
to  the  protecting  providence  of  God. 

Never  was  Moses  in  greater  security,  no  not  when 
myriads  of  Israelites  pitched  their  tents  around  him  in 
the  wilderness,  than  now,  when  he  was  cast  alone  and 
feeble  upon  the  waves — no  water,  no  Egyptian  can 
hurt  him.    Neither  friend  nor  mother  dares  own  him. 


MOSES    BORN,    AKD    CALLED.  49 

and  lo,  God  provides  for  his  safety.  When  we  seem 
most  neglected  and  forlorn  in  ourselves,  then  is  He 
most  present,  most  vigilant. 

The  daughter  of  Pharaoh,  by  an  impulse  from  heaven, 
is  directed  to  the  river.  The  merciful  offspring  of  a 
cruel  father  sees  the  ark,  opens  it,  finds  the  child  weep- 
ing. The  persuasive  oratory  hath  its  efiect ;  her  heart 
is  struck  with  compassion  ;  and  the  wife  of  Amram  is 
herself  appointed  to  receive  her  child,  both  with  au- 
thority and  reward.  The  exchange  of  the  name  of  a 
mothe^r  for  that  of  a  nurse  hath  gained  her  both  her  son 
and  the  care  of  his  education,  and  the  blessing  of  God 
gives  her  success. 

The  generous  princess  considers  him  not  as  a  wretch- 
ed outcast  whom  it  was  only  necessary  to  keep  alive — 
she  educates  him  as  her  son,  in  all  the  learning,  all  the 
grandeur  of  Egypt.  But  no  doubt  his  pious  mother 
early  taught  him  that  the  honors  of  courts  and  palaces 
were  not  to  prevent  him  from  taking  a  part  in  the  sor- 
rows of  Israel.  If  we  had  the  faith  of  Moses  we  should 
make  his  choice.  Infidelity  binds  us  to  the  world,  and 
makes  us  prefer  the  momentary  pleasures  of  sin  to  the 
everlasting  recompense  of  reward. 

He  went  forth  and  looked  on  the  burdens  of  Israel. 
What  needed  Moses  to  have  afllicted  himself  with  the 
cfliictions  of  others  1  He  was  at  ease  and  pleasure  in 
the  court  of  Pharaoh.  But  a  good  heart  can  neither  en> 
dure  to  be  happy  alone  nor  forbear  to  participate  with 
others  in  their  miseries.  He  is  no  true  Moses  who  is 
not  moved  with  the  calamities  of  God's  church.  To  sec 
an  Egyptian  smite  a  Hebrew  urged  him  to  assert  his 
divine  commission.  He  supposed  his  brethren  would 
have  understood  that  God,  by  his  hand,  would  deliver 
them.  He  avenged  him  that  was  oppressed  ;  he  smcte 
the  Egyptian. 

Another  Hebrew  is  stricken,  but  by  a  Hebrew j  and 

Script.  Hist.  3 


50  HALL-^S    SCRIPTURE    IIISTOUY. 

now,  instead  of  a  deadly  blow,  Moses  gives  the  aggres- 
sor a  gentle  admonition}  reminds  both  parties  of  their 
common  brotherhood  and  of  their  common  adversities. 
The  spirit  of  discord  to  this  hour  is  equally  active  ;  and 
christians,  as  if  they  had  no  foreign  enemies,  deal 
among  each  other  every  kind  of  destruction.  While 
we  ar,e  in  the  Egypt  of  this  world  all  unkind  conten- 
tions would  easily  be  composed  if  we  did  not  forget 
that  we  are  brethren. 

How  bitter  an  answer  doth  Moses  receive  to  this 
gentle  reproof!  None  but  the  regenerate  can  say,  "  Let 
the  righteous  smite  me,  it  shall  be  a  kindness."  Next  to 
the  not  deserving  a  rebuke  is  the  receiving  it  with  hu- 
mility :  but  guilt  makes  a  man  easily  provoked  ;  malice 
renders  him  incapable  of  good  counsel ;  and  none  are 
so  great  enemies  to  justice  as  those  who  are  enemies 
to  peace. 

"  Wilt  thou  kill  me  as  thou  diJst  theEgyptian  1"  Had 
Moses  slain  him  unjustly,  what  was  this  to  the  Hebrew  1 
Another  man's  sin  is  no  excuse  for  ours.  What  matters 
it  who  admonishes  us  of  our  faults  1  Let  us  look  into 
our  own  hearts  ;  let  us  weigh  the  advice  given.  If  that 
be  good  it  may  remedy  the  evil,  come  whence  it  may. 
Yet,  behold  the  providence  of  God  by  means  of  this 
angry  Israelite  gives  intimation  to  his  faithful  servant 
of  the  danger  that  awaited  him.  The  intended  insult 
preserves  the  life  of  Moses;  he  is  aware  of  the  wrath 
of  Pharaoh;  he  flees — he  escapes. 

Still,  wherever  his  footsteps  lead  him  he  is  an  advo- 
cate for  innocence.  In  Egypt  he  delivered  the  oppressed 
Israelite;  in  Midian  the  oppressed  daughters  of  Jethro. 
Charity  and  faithfulness  accompany  his  path  and  follow 
him  in  all  his  ways. 

Now  has  Moses  changed  the  delicacies  of  Egypt  for 
hunger  in  the  fields  of  Midian;  it  is  a  lesson  which 
must  be  learned  by  all  God's  children,  to  want  as  well 


MOSES    BORN,    AND    CALLED.  \  51 

ns  to  abound.  But  the  act  of  justice  he  had  so  lately 
done  brings  with  it  a  speedy  recompense.  Jethro  re 
turns  it  kindly  by  hospitable  entertainment.  A  good  dis- 
position is  ever  ready  to  requite  courtesies ;  we  cannot 
do  too  much  for  a  thankful  man.  And  if  a  generous 
heathen  reward  Moses  in  so  bountiful  a  manner  for  giv- 
ing drink  to  his  flock,  how  shall  our  God  recompense  a 
cup  of  cold  water  only  that  is  given  to  a  disciple  1 

Moses  has  now  an  asylum  ;  he  obtains  for  a  wife  one 
of  those  damsels  he  had  formerly  protected.  Jethro 
finds  him  valiant,  wise,  learned,  nobly  educated,  and 
joyfully  gives  him  his 'daughter.  Yet  all  this  kindness 
cannot  make  him  forget  the  afflictions  of  his  people; 
while  absent  from  them  he  calls  himself  "  A  stranger 
in  a  strange  land."  If  Moses  so  thought  of  his  Egyp- 
tian home  where  was  nothing  but  bondage  and  tyranny, 
how  should  we  think  of  that  our  future,  our  glorious 
home,  where  is  nothing  but  joy  and  blessedness. 

Yet  was  the  deliverer  of  Israel  forty  years  an  hum- 
ble shepherd  ;  so  long  did  the  leader  of  God's  people 
rest  in  contented  obscurity,  and  willingly  leave  the 
world  to  others  while  he  had  freedom  of  thought  ^nd 
full  opportunity  for  holy  meditation.  He  who  hath  re- 
sources in  himself  and  can  hold  converse  with  God, 
can  find  more  pleasure  in  the  desert  than  others  can 
do  in  the  palaces  of  kings. 

While  he  is  tending  his  sheep  Jehovah  appears  to 
him,  God  addresses  not  the  idle  and  inactive — when 
he  finds  us  in  our  callings  we  find  him  in  the  tokens 
of  his  mercy.  God  was  always  present  with  Moses — 
but  he  was  not  seen  till  now.  He  is  never  absent  from 
his  children — sometimes  he  condescends  to  appear  to 
the  evidence  of  their  senses.  When  we  look  on  this 
burning  bush  with  Moses,  what  a  lively  emblem  do  we 
see  of  the  church  which  then  in  Egypt  was  suffering 
affliction !  a  church  persecuted  but  not  forsaken  j  cast 


52  hall's  scripture  history, 

down  but  not  destroyed  !  The  same  power  which  en- 
lightens it  preserves  it,  and  to  none  but  to  liis  eue- 
mies  is  he  a  consuming  fire. 

In  that  appearance  God  nieant  to  call  Moses;  but 
when  he  is  come  he  forbids  his  advancing  too  nearly. 
When  we  meditate  on  the  glorious  truths  of  his  Gos- 
pel we  come  to  him  ;  we  come  too  near  him  when  we 
pry  into  his  mysterious  counsels.  The  sun  and  fire 
forbid  our  immediate  access ;  how  much  more  that 
Light  which  no  man  can  approach  1  the  weaves  of  the 
sea  have  not  more  need  of  bounds  than  mortal  pre- 
sumption. 

Behold  the  patriarchs  still  live  after  so  many  years 
of  dissolution.  ''  I  am  the  God  of  Abraham,  the  God  of 
Isaac,  and  the  God  of  Jacob."  No  length  of  time  can 
separate  the  souls  of  the  just  from  their  Maker.  If  he 
had  said,  "  I  am  the  glorious  God  that  made  heaven 
and  earth;  I  dwell  in  light  inaccessible,  which  the  an- 
gels cannot  behold;  I  am  God  the  Avenger,  jast  and 
terrible,  repaying  vengeance  to  mine  enemies;"  then 
would  the  carnal  heart  have  trembled.  But  to  the  up- 
right^ God  is  awful  in  his  mercies.  "  There  is  forgive- 
ness with  Thee,  that  Thou  mayst  be  feared."  The 
wicked  heart  regards  not  God  but  when  thundering, 
or  shaking  the  earth  or  raining  fire  from  heaven ;  the 
good  can  fear  him  in  his  very  sunshine.  Jacob,  the  true 
ancestor  of  Moses,  when  he  saw  nothing  but  visions  of 
love  and  mercy,  could  say,  "  How  dreadful  is  this 
place!" 

Behold  the  difference  between  our  present  and  our 
future  state !  There  the  more  majesty  of  appearance 
the  more  delight.  When  our  sin  is  gone,  our  fear  as 
well  as  sorrow  shall  be  turned  into  joy.  God  appeared 
to  Adam  in  his  innocence  with  comfort ;  but  the  same 
form,  after  his  fall,  was  insupportable.  And  if  Moses 
cannot  endure  to  look  on  his  glory  when  he  descends 


THE   PLAGUES    OF    EGYPT.  53 

in  mercy,  how  shall  the  wicked  abide  his  fearful  pre- 
sence when  he  ariseth  to  shake  terribly  the  earth  1 


11.— THE  PLAGUES  OF  EGYPT. 

That  flesh  and  blood  should  receive  a  message  from 
heaven  is  an  act  of  condescension  which  passeth  un- 
derstanding. Yet  here  "God  sends  an  embassy  to  man, 
and  is  repulsed.  Well  may  he  ask,  "  What  is  man^  that 
I  should  look  upon  himV  But  for  man  to  ask,  "  Who 
is  the  Lord!"  is  a  proud  and  bold  blasphemy.  Pharaoh 
shall  know  in  the  event,  and  all  the  world  by  his  means, 
who  the  Lord  is  whom  he  thus  rejected. 

All  God's  judgments  stand  ready,  and  wait  but  till 
they  are  called  for.  They  need  but  the  word  to  be 
given  them.  No  sooner  is  the  rod  lifted  up  than  they 
are  gone  forth  into  the  world.  All  the  troops  of  God 
came  rushing  upon  his  adversaries.  All  creatures  con- 
spire to  take  vengeance  on  the  disobedient.  Above 
them  the  Egyptians  have  thunder,  lightning,  hail,  tem- 
pest ;  at  one  time  no  light  at  all,  at  another  such  fear- 
ful flashes  as  had  more  terror  than  darkness.  Under 
them  the  waters  are  changed  into  blood,  the  earth 
swarms  with  noisome  reptiles  and  insects.  They  see 
their  fruits  destroyed,  their  cattle  smitten,  themselves 
afnicted  with  grievous  sickness,  their  children  suddenly 
snatched  away  by  death. 

First,  God  begins  his  judgment  with  waters.  They 
had  defiled  the  river  with  the  blood  of  innocents,  and 
now  it  appears  to  them  as  a  memorial  of  their  guilt, 
a  monument  of  their  past  cruelty,  a  presage  of  their 
future  destruction. 


54  hall's  scripture  history. 

It  is  hard  to  say  whether  in  this  plague  there  were 
more  horror  or  annoyance — yet  the  rod  is  lifted  up 
again,  and  that  Nilus  which  they  adored  becomes  again 
their  tormentor.  Loathsome  reptiles  leave  their  element 
to  punish  the  fury  of  the  oppressors.  Yet  even  this 
■wonder,  as  well  as  the  preceding,  the  magicians  are  al- 
lowed to  imitate.  God  makes  use  of  his  enemies  as  in- 
struments of  vengeance — for  himself  he  reserves  his  acts 
of  mercy. 

Still  Pharaoh  is  hardened  and  the  sorcerers  insolent. 
Behold,  while  this  pride  is  at  its  height  they  are  in  a 
moment  brought  into  confusion.  The  rod  is  lifted  up — 
the  dust  receives  life — lice  abound  every  where — no 
distinction  is  made  between  beggars  and  princes:  the 
rivals  of  Moses  are  foiled  and  abashed  ;  thej^^  are  com- 
pelled to  exclaim,  *'  This  is  the  finger  of  God." 

The  water  was  annoyed  by  the  first  plague,  the  earth 
by  the  second  and  third.  The  fourth  fills  the  air,  the 
winged  army  of  an  indignant  God.  He  who  gave  these 
hornets  a  being,  gave  them  their  limits  ;  they  can  nei- 
ther sting  an  Israelite  nor  spare  an  Egyptian. 
I  And  now  the  heart  of  Pharaoh  begins  to  melt.  "  Go, 
serve  your  God  in  this  land — Go  into  the  wilderness, 
but  not  far  away !"  Alas,  how  soon  does  he  return  to 
his  rebellion  !  Good  resolutions,  in  carnal  hearts,  are 
merely  transient  guests.  Now  neither  the  contagion  of 
his  cattle  nor  the  pestilential  boils  of  his  people  can 
move  him.  To  what  a  height  of  obduracy  will  sin  lead 
men,  and  most  of  all  sins,  infidelity !  Amidst  these 
storms  Pharaoh  sleeps  till  he  is  roused  by  the  voice  of 
God's  mighty  thunders  and  hail  mingled  with  fire. 

Then  he  starts  and  exclaims,  "God  is  righteous;  I 
and  my  people  are  wicked  ;  pray  for  us !"  But  the 
thunder  is  no  sooner  over  than  he  relapses  into  his  dis- 
obedience. Again  the  plague  of  the  locusts  startles 
hina ;  for  when  he  considers  the  fish  destroyed  with  the 


THE    PLAGUES    OF    EGiTT.  55 

first  plague,  the  cattle  with  the  fifths  the  corn  with  the 
seventh,  the  fruit  and  leaves  with  this  eighth,  and 
nothing  left  him  but  a  bare  desolate  earth  to  live  on, 
necessity  drives  him  into  a  temporary  submission. 
"  Forgive  me  this  once  ;  take  away  from  me  this  death 
only." 

Constrained  repentance  is  short  and  fruitless.  The 
west  wind,  with  the  locusts,  drives  away  his  remorse — 
and  now  he  is  ready  for  another  judgment.  Now  a  gross 
darkness,  a  darkness  real  and  sensible,  takes  away  the 
sight  of  heaven.  Now  they  imagine  that  the  sun  is  lost 
out  of  the  firmament  ahd  withdrawn  for  ever;  that  all 
things  are  returning  to  their  original  confusion  when 
darkness  was  on  the  face  of  the  deep.  All  think  them- 
selves miserable,  past  remedy;  whilst  the  obduracy  of 
Pharaoh  is  changed  into  desperation.  ''  Get  thee  from 
me,  see  my  face  no  more  ;  when  thou  seest  my  face 
thou  shalt  die."  What  is  this  but  to  seek  for  the  pun- 
ishment and  fly  from  the  remedy!  When  God's  mes- 
sen<yers  are  abandoned  destruction  is  near.  Moses  will 
see  him  no  more  till  he  behold  him  dead  upon  the  sands, 
while  God  reserves  his  last  and  most  fearful  plague  for 
the  conclusion. 

In  one  night,  in  one  instant,,  every  house  hath  in  it  a 
breathless  corpse.  No  man  could  comfort  another.  Every 
one  is  too  full  of  his  own  sorrow,  and  the  cry  of  the  city 
ascends  to  heaven.  Now  are  the  Egyptians  as  importu- 
nate in  entreating  their  guests  to  depart  as  they  were 
before  peremptory  in  their  refusal.  Now  they  freely  be- 
stow on  them  their  rich  jewels,  the  well-earned  recom- 
pense of  their  past  labor,  the  support  of  their  present 
journey.  God's  people  staid  like  slaves  :  they  go  avvay 
like  conquerors,  with  the  spails  of  those  that  hated 
them — armed  for  security  and  wealthy  for  maintenance. 

Far  different  is  the  state  of  Israel  since  their  proge« 
riitor  went  with  his  staff  and  his  scrip  over  Jordan,    lu 


5d  hall's  scripture  history. 

spite  of  their  bondage  and  bloodshed  they  go  forth  six 
hundred  thousand  men.  Tyranny  itself  is  too  weak 
where  God  bids  increase  and  multiply.  Lo,  that  very 
night,  when  the  time  appointed  is  expired,  Israel  is 
gone  J  and  the  same  God  who  brought  them  out,  is 
their  guide  and  protector  ;  choosing  their  way,  not  with 
respect  to  what  is  nearest,  but  what  is  safest.  He 
would  not  have  his  people  so  suddenly  change  from 
bondage  to  war. 

And  as  he  chooses^  so  he  guides  their  journey.  That 
they  might  not  err  in  the  pathless  desert,  he  himself 
goes  before  them.  Who  could  but  follow  cheerfully 
when  God  leads  the  way  1  He  who  conducted  the 
wise  men  by  a  star,  guides  Israel  by  a  cloud.  Thai  was 
a  higher  object,  therefore  he  gave  them  a  heavenly 
signal.  This  was  more  earthly,  therefore  he  contents 
himself  with  a  lower  representation  of  his  presence.  A 
pillar  of  clouds  and  fire — a  pillar  for  firmness,  of  clouds 
and  fire  for  visibility  and  use.  The  greater  light  extin- 
guishes the  less.  In  the  day  he  shows  them  not  fire, 
but  a  cloud  ;  in  the  night  he  shows  them  not  the  cloud, 
but  fire.  The  one  guards  them  against  the  heat  of  day, 
the  other  against  the  cold  vapors  of  the  night.  The 
same  God  is  a  cloud  and  fire  to  his  children,  showing 
himself  to  them  in  such  form  as  best  suits  their  ne- 
cessities. 

i  No  sooner  are  the  Israelites  gone  than  Pharaoh  de- 
termines to  bring  them  back,  though  at  the  hazard  of 
more  plagues  from  God.  The  Egyptians  knew  that  the 
Hebrews  were  not  trained  up  for  war,  that  they  were 
weary  with  their  journey  and  long  servitude,  while 
themselves  were  soldiers  by  profession,  furnished  with 
horses,  and  with  chariots  of  iron.  They  give  them- 
selves, therefore,  the  victory  already,  and  the  very  Is- 
raelites are  talking  of  their  graves.  They  behold  the 
sea  before  them,  behind  them  the  Egyptians  j  they  know 


THE    PLAGUES    OF    EGYPT.  57 

not  which  is  most  merciless,  and  are  stricken  with  the  fear 
of  both.  O  God,  thy  patience  is  no  less  a  miracle  than 
thy  power ;  they  had  seen  thy  wonders  in  Egypt  and  in 
Goshen,  they  saw  thy  pillar  even  now  before  them, 
and  yet  did  they  more  fear  Egypt  than  believe  thee! 
But  still  thou  dost  undertake  the  defence  of  thy  people. 
Thy  cloudy  pillar  removes  and  stands  between  the  Is- 
raelites and  the  Egyptians,  as  if  thou  wouldst  exclaim, 
^'  They  shall  overcome  me,  O  Israel,  ere  they  injure 
thee."  Wonder  now  strove  with  fear  among  the  peo- 
ple, when  they  saw  the  cloud  move  behind  them,  the 
sea  retreat  before  them.  They  w'ere  not  used  to  si.ch 
bulwarks.  Jehovah  stood  behind  them  in  the  cloud  j 
the  sea  reared  them  up  walls  on  either  side — that  which 
they  feared  would  be  their  destruction  protected  them. 
How  easily  can  God  make  his  most  terrible  creatures 
our  friends  and  patrons! 

Pharaoh  sees  all  this,  and  wonders ;  yet  thinks  he 
not  that  God  hath  made  a  difference  between  him  and 
Israel,  nor  sees  w^hy  he  may  not  trust  the  sea  as  well  as 
they.  Lo,  till  he  and  his  host  arrive  in  the  midst  of  the 
now  dry  channel,  not  one  wave  may  rise  against  them  j 
but  when  they  are  too  far  to  return  they  are  stricken 
with  their  last  terror.  God  pursues  them,  and  they 
cannot  fly  from  him.  The  sea  shows  them  that  it  re- 
gards the  rod  of  Moses,  not  the  sceptre  of  Pharaoh.  It 
swallows  them  up  in  its  waves  and  casts  them  upon  its 
sand  for  a  spectacle  of  triumph  to  their  adversaries, 
who  now  magnify  God  for  their  deliverance,  and  ex- 
change their  cries  of  terror  for  songs  of  exultation. 


Z* 


58 


1-2.— ISRAEL  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 


God  taught  his  people  by  actions  as  well  as  by  words. 
While  they  follow  Moses  through  the  wilderness, 
whom  they  followed  through  the  sea,  he  who  called 
them  to  the  land  of  promise  gives  them  at  the  entrance 
on  their  journey  thirst  and  bitterness.  The  ways  of  sin 
appear  pleasant  in  the  beginning,  but  are  afterwards 
full  of  misery.  Holiness  inures  us  to  the  worst  at  first, 
and  sweetens  our  conclusion  with  pleasure.  O  thou, 
who  hast  undertaken  to  conduct  us  to  our  better  coun- 
try, how  faithful,  how  powerful  do  we  find  thee!  How 
fearlessly  should  we  trust  thee !  How  cheerfully  should 
we  follow  thee  through  contempt,  poverty,  death  itself! 
"Master,  if  it  be  thou,  bid  us  come  unto  thee." 
'  Yet  none  have  on  earth  such  bitter  draughts  as  those 
whom  God  loves  best.  He  w  ill  not  expose  his  flock  to  the 
clangers  of  war,  but  he  delays  not  to  make  trial  of  their 
patience  at  the  waters  of  Marah.  0  Savior,  thou  didst 
drink  a  more  bitter  cup  from  the  hand  of  thy  Father 
than  that  which  thou  didst  refuse  at  the  hand  of  the 
Jews,  or  than  that  which  we  can  drink  from  thee  ! 

The  Israelites,  instead  of  praying  to  God,  murmur 
against  Moses — yet  what  hath  the  righteous  done  1  He 
made  not  either  the  wilderness  dry  or  the  waters  bitter. 
The  presence  of  God  went  before  them,  yet  Moses  is 
murmured  at.  It  is  the  hard  fate  of  those  in  authority, 
that  when  the  multitude  arc  prosperous  they  praise 
themselves ;  when  they  are  unfortunate,  they  blame 
their  governors.  W^ho  shall  hope  to  be  free,  if  Moses 
escape  not  1  Behold,  the  first  occasion  of  want  makes 
the  Israelites  rebels.  No  benefits  can  stop  the  mouth 
of  ingratitude.  One  year  of  famine,  one  month  of  un- 
seasonable weather,  one  week  of  pestilence,  makes  us 
overlook  all  the  variety  of  blessings  we  receive  from 
God  ',  and  we  charge  our  Maker  foolishly. 


ISRAEL   IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  ^9 

Moses  takes  the  course  that  they  should  have  done, 
he  prays  fervently  to  God,  and  pours  out  his  heart  to 
one  who  never  lets  his  servants  cry  to  him  in  vain.  No 
sooner  hath  he  shown  his  sorrows,  than  God  shows  a 
remedy;  yet  a  remedy  of  such  a  miraculous  kind  as 
demonstrates  that  all  things  are  subject  to  the  com- 
mand of  their  Creator. 

The  thirst  of  Israel  is  quenched,  and  now  they  com- 
plain of  hunger.  While  their  provision  lasted  they 
were  content  to  pray  for  their  daily  bread ;  but  when 
this  fails,  their  faith  fails  in  proportion.  They  should 
have  said,  "  He  that  commanded  the  sea  to  guard  us, 
can  as  easily  command  the  earth  to  nourish  iis  ;  he 
who  made  the  rod  a  serpent,  can  make  these  stones 
bread.  Why  do  we  not  rely  on  him  whom  we  have 
found  so  powerful!"  Nature  is  cheerful  in  the  sun- 
shine of  prosperity — is  never  weary  of  receiving; 
but  when  the  sky  is  overcast  and  the  clouds  of  afflic- 
tion intervene,  faith  and  hope  are  lost  amidst  the  mur- 
murs of  impatience  j  ''Would  to  God  that  we  had  died 
in  Egypt !" 

When  the  anger  of  the  Lord  might  have  been  expect- 
ed in  fire,  his  glory  appears  in  a  cloud.  He  who  heard 
their  murmurings,  instead  of  punishing,  gratifies  them. 
They  desired  meat,  and  have  quails  ;  they  desired  bread, 
and  have  manna.  What  a  table  did  God  prepare  in  the 
desert !  Never  was  prince  so  served  in  his  greatest 
pomp,  as  these  rebellious  Israelites  in  the  wilderness. 
How  bounteous  is  our  God  to  those  that  please  him, 
who  is  thus  liberal  even  to  offenders  !  O  how  plentiful, 
Lord,  is  thy  goodness,"  which  thou  hast  laid  up  for  them 
that  fear  thee,  and  that  thou  hast  prepared  for  them 
that  put  their  trust  in  thee,  even  before  the  sons  of 
men  !  0  Lord,  thy  mercy  is  not  shortened  to  give  j 
quicken  thou  our  hearts,  lift  up  our  hands,  open  o\\t 
mouths  in  prayer  and  praise, 


60  hall's  scripture  history. 

\  et  though  God  will  relieve  thern  with  provision,  he 
will  punish  their  impatience;  they  shall  know  themselves 
to  be  his  people  ;  but  they  shall  feel  that  they  were 
mutinous.  It  is  a  fearful  thing  to  abuse  the  lenity  of 
God.  His  mercy  is  abundant ;  but  his  justice  will  not 
always  sleep.  It  is  through  our  own  infatuation  if  we 
do  not  take  warning. 

To  find  flesh  in  the  wilderness  is  unusual ;  but 
for  bread  to  come  down  from  heaven  was  still  more 
"wonderful.  They  had  seen  quails  before,  manna  they 
never  beheld  till  now.  What  an  assemblage  of  miracles 
was  here !  In  its  quantity,  in  its  place,  in  its  composi- 
tion, in  its  quality,  in  the  difference  of  its  fall  on  the 
eve  of  the  Sabbath,  in  its  preservation  in  the  ark,  m 
its  continuance,  in  its  cessation.  When  they  came  to 
taste  the  bread  of  Canaan,  it  then  withdrew  itself,  as  if 
it  had  said,  "  ye  need  no  miracles  now  ye  have  means." 

They  had  the  types;  we  have  the  substance.  In  this 
wilderness  of  the  world  the  true  manna  is  rained  upon 
our  hearts.  We  know  who  hath  said,  ^'  I  am  the  bread 
that  came  down  from  heaven."  All  their  meals  were 
spiritual ;  every  morsel  they  did  eat  was  sacramental — 
and  we,  in  the  true  Sabbath  of  our  glorious  rest,  shall 
for  ever  feed  on  that  manna  which  we  have  gathered  in 
this  our  day  of  preparation. 

Still  God  observes  a  vicissitude  of  evil  and  good; 
lo,  the  Israelites  thirst  again  at  the  rock  of  Rephidim. 
When  we  see  our  afflictions  removed  from  us  for  a 
season,  we  must  expect  the  possibility  of  their  return. 

O  the  presumption  of  that  bold  inquiry,  "  Is  the 
Lord  among  us  or  no]"  What  could  God  do  more  to 
convince  them  of  his  presence,  when  every  moment 
brought  with  it  a  new  miracle  1  The  plagues  of  Egypt 
and  the  division  of  the  sea  were  noised  abroad  even  to 
Jericho.  Their  waters  were  lately  made  sweet ;  quails 
had  been  sent  them  as  the  sand  of  the  sea  ;  the  manna 


ISRAEL    IN    THE    WILDERNESS.  61 

was  showered  on  them  from  heaven  ;  they  saw  the  pillar 
of  the  cloud !  and  yet  they  say,  ''  Is  the  Lord  among 
us  1"  No  argument  is  enough  to  an  incredulous  heart. 
If  they  are  most  blessed  who  have  not  seen  and  yet 
have  believed,  how  lamentable  is  their  state  who  close 
their  eyes  against  the  beams  of  light — whose  obduracy 
is  proof  against  reason,  sense,  and  experience  ! 

But  such  is  the  deep  ingratitude  of  carnal  minds.  If 
they  prosper,  (even  in  wickedness,)  they  assert  that  God 
is  with  them.  If  they  are  thwarted  in  their  designs,  they 
distrust,  and  murmur,  and  mutiny.  In  their  want,  they 
lament  his  absence — in  their  sin,  they  wish  for  it;  and 
yet  wickedness,  rather  than  affliction,  argues  him  to 
have  turned  away  his  face^— for  then  is  he  most  present 
when  he  most  chastises. 

There  is  no  expostulating  with  an  unreasonable  mul- 
titude ;  Moses  flies  to  Him  who  was  able  to  quench 
their  thirst  and  their  fury.  Wisely  do  we  betake  our- 
selves to  Heaven  in  cases  of  doubt  and  danger.  We 
shall  find  difficulties  in  all  great  enterprises.  If  we  dare 
beg  God  to  prosper  them,  we  may  securely  cast  all 
events  upon  his  providence,  who  knows  both  how  to 
dispose  and  how  to  end  them. 

In  these  perilous  circumstances  a  less  courageous 
leader  would  have  thought  of  flight.  Moses  betakes  him- 
self to  prayer — and  that  not  for  revenge,  but  help.  We 
hear  him  not  exclaiming,  '^  Twice  have  they  mutinied 
and  been  pardoned;  yet  lo,  again  they  madly  rebel — 
preserve  me  and  punish  Mem,  O  Lord  !"  On  the  contrary 
he  seeks  to  God  in  their  behalf;  he  imitates  the  mercy 
and  long-suftering  of  his  Creator;  he  prays,  and  his 
prayer  is  heard. 

"  Take  thy  rod  wherewith  thou  smotest  the  river." 
Thus  doth  the  Almighty  vouchsafe  to  strengthen  the 
faith  of  his  servant ;  who  might  well  expect  this  wonder, 
from  that  which  he  had  tried,  to  be  miraculous.    No- 


6*2 

thing  confirms  the  regenerate  heart  more  than  the  re- 
collection of  past  mercies.  The  rod,  which  had  turned 
the  waters  into  blood  and  the  sea  into  a  rampart,  opens 
the  rock  of  stone  and  the  waters  flow  out — to  convince 
and  to  shame  the  infidelity  of  Israel. 

And  now,  unless  their  hearts  had  been  more  obdurate 
than  the  rock,  tears  of  penitential  sorrow  must  have 
burst  from  their  eyes.  Now  the  water  they  drink,  as 
well  as  the  bread  they  eat,  is  typical  and  figurative. 

The  rock  that  followed  them  was  Christ.  From  him 
proceed  those  living  waters  whereby  the  thirst  of  all 
true  believers  is  refreshed.  Let  us  but  thirst,  O  Lord, 
not  with  repining,  but  with  faith,  those  streams  shall 
abundantly  flow  into  our  souls,  and  follow  us,  till  the 
water  be  changed  into  that  new  wine  which  we  shall 
drink  with  thee  in  the  kingdom  of  thy  Father! 


13.— THE    LAW. 

What  a  wonderful  agreement  do  we  find  between  the 
two  testaments  !  In  the  very  time  of  their  delivery  there 
is  the  same  coincidence  as  in  their  substance.  The  an- 
cient Jews  kept  our  festivals  and  we  keep  theirs.  The 
feast  of  the  passover  is  the  time  of  Christ's  resurrection, 
when  he  rescued  our  human  nature  from  the  bondage 
of  death.  Christ  himself  is  our  paschal  lamb,  a  bone 
whereof  must  not  be  broken.  On  the  very  day  wherein 
the  Almighty  came  down  in  flame  and  thunders  to  de- 
liver the  law,  came  down  the  Holy  Ghost  on  the  disci- 
ples in  fiery  tongues,  for  the  promulgation  of  the  Gos- 
pel. The  first  in  fire  and  smoke,  where  obscurity  was 
mingled  with  terror — the  last  in  a  bright  fire,  denoting 
the  light  and  clearness  of  the  Gospel — fire,  not  in  flashee, 


THE    LAW.  63 

but  in  tongues — not  to  terrify,  but  to  instruct.  Tbe  pro- 
clamation of  the  law  makes  way  for  the  reception  of  a 
better  covenant. 

The  contagion  of  the  sins  of  Egypt  still  adhered  to 
Israel — from  this  they  must  now  be  purified.  God  re- 
quires preparation  on  the  part  of  his  people,  that  they 
may  be  fitted  for  hearing  his  commandments.  If  such 
previous  holiness  was  necessary,  that  the  Israelites  might 
receive  the  law,  what  manner  of  persons  ought  we  to  be 
that  we  may  obtain  the  mercy  promised  in  the  Gospel  1 

Neither  must  ihemseives  only  be  purified,  but  their 
very  garments ;  that  by  this  outward  act  they  might 
learn  with  what  souls  to  appear  before  their  Creator. 
The  God  of  spirits  looks  to  the  inner  man,  and  requires 
more  especial  sanctity  where  we  most  resemble  him- 
self. ''  Come  out  from  among  them,  and  be  ye  separate, 
and  touch  not  the  unclean  thing,  and  I  will  receive  you, 
and  will  be  a  father  unto  you,  and  ye  shall  be  my  sons 
and  daughters,"  saith  the  Lord  Almighty. 

Thus  washed,  thus  sanctified,  they  are  still  prohibited 
from  approaching  the  mount.  God  expects  from  his 
creatures  the  fear  as  well  as  the  love  of  children.  He 
would  have  us  acquaint  ourselves  with  him  in  the  path 
of  obedience ;  but  he  is  awful  in  his  ordinances — he 
wills  us  to  tremble  at  his  word  and  judgments. 

Behold  the  difl^erence  betwixt  the  law  and  the  Gos- 
pel!  There,  the  very  hill  where  God  appeared  might 
not  be  touched  by  the  purest  Israelites ;  here,  the  mul- 
titude thronged  the  Savior  and  pressed  him ;  j^ea,  his 
very  face  was  not  withdrawn  even  from  the  impious 
Judas.  There,  the  earth  on  which  he  descended  was 
prohibited  them.  Here,  his  body  and  blood  are  ofiered 
to  our  acceptance.  O  marvellous  kindness  of  our  God  ! 
How  ungrateful  are  we,  if  we  acknowledge  not  this  pre- 
eminence over  his  ancient  people !  They  who  were 
his  own  were  strangers  in  comparison  of  our  liberty. 


64-  HALL'S    SCRIPTURE    HISTORY. 

It  is  our  shame  and  sin  if  we  are  no  better  acquainted 
with  our  heavenly  Father  than  they  who,  in  the  time  of 
his  immediate  intercourse  with  man,  \vere  not  permit- 
ted to  approach  the  mnjesty  of  his  glory. 

God  is  ever  wonderful  in  his  works  and  fearful  in  his 
judgments — but  he  was  never  so  terrible  in  the  execu- 
tion of  his  will,  as  now  in  the  proviul gation  of  it.  Here 
was  nothing  but  a  display  of  grandeur  in  the  eyes,  in 
the  ears  of  the  Israelites,  as  if  God  meant  to  show  them 
by  this  how  dreadful  he  could  be.  Here  was  the  light* 
ning  darted  in  their  eyes,  the  thunders  roaring  in  their 
ears,  the  heavenly  trumpet  drowning  the  thunderclaps, 
the  voice  of  God  out-speaking  the  trumpet  of  the  angel, 
the  cloud  encircling  Sinai,  the  smoke  ascending,  the 
fire  flaming,  the  mountain  trembling,  paleness  and  death 
in  the  face  of  Israel,  and  all  the  glory  of  heaven  turned 
into  terror.  In  the  destruction  of  the  first  world  there 
were  clouds — in  the  destruction  of  Sodom  there  was 
fire — but  here  were  fire,  smoke,  clouds,  thunder,  earth- 
quakes, and  whatsoever  might  work  more  astonishment 
than  was  ever  in  any  vengeance  inflicted. 

And  if  the  law  were  thus  given,  how  shall  it  be  re- 
quired  ?  If  such  were  the  proclamation  of  God's  statutes, 
what  shall  be  his  tribunal]  I  see  and  tremble  at  the 
resemblance.  The  trumpet  of  an  angel  called  to  the 
one,  the  voice  of  the  archangel  and  the  trumpet  of 
God  shall  summon  us  to  the  other.  Of  the  one,  Moses, 
who  alone  witnessed  it,  saith,  "  God  came  with  the 
multitude  of  his  saints" — in  tlie  other,  thousand  thou- 
sands shall  minister  unto  him,  and  ten  thousand  times 
ten  thousand  shall  stand  before  him.  In  the  one.  Mount 
Sinai  only  was  in  a  flame — all  the  world  shall  be  so  in 
the  other.  In  the  one,  there  were  thunders  and  fires — in 
the  other,  a  fiery  stream  shall  proceed  from  him,  where- 
by the  elements  shall  melt  with  fervent  heat — the  hea- 
vens and  earth  shall  be  dissolved— they  shall  flee  away» 


THE   LAW.  65 

and  have  no  place.  O  God,  how  powerful  art  thou  to 
execute  vengeance  upon  sinners,  who  didst  thus  forbid 
ein  1  If  thou  wert  so  terrible  a  Lawgiver,  what  a  Judge 
shalt  thou  appear  %  What  shall  be  their  doom  who  are 
guilty  of  transgressing  that  law,  whose  very  delivery 
was  little  less  than  deaths  If  God  exact  his  law  in  the 
rigor  with  which  it  was  given,  alas,  who  may  abide  if? 
But  happy  are  they  whom  the  Gospel  hath  rescued 
from  the  terrors  of  that  law,  which  was  given  in  fire, 
and  in  fire  shall  be  required. 

God  would  have  Israel  see  that  they  had  not  a  Go- 
vernor whose  commands  mi2:ht  be  neorlected  or  trifled 
with — and  therefore,  before  he  gives  his  people  a  law, 
he  shows  them  that  he  can  command  heaven,  earth, 
water,  fire,  air,  by  the  mere  signification  of  his  will — 
thus  teaching  them  that  it  was  a  fearful  thing  to  dis- 
please such  a  Legislator,  or  violate  such  statutes-— 
while  they  beheld  the  elements  examples  of  that  obe- 
dience which  man  should  always  yield  to  his  Maker. 

This  fire  wherein  the  lav/  was  given,  remains  in  it, 
and  will  never  depart — hence  are  those  terrors  which  it 
flashes  in  every  man's  conscience  who  hath  felt  remorse 
for  sin.  Every  man's  heart  is  a  Sinai,  and  resembles  to 
him  both  heaven  and  hell.  The  sting  of  death  is  sin, 
and  the  strength  of  sin  is  the  law. 

O  royal  law  and  mighty  Lawgiver  !  How  could  they 
think  of  having  any  other  God,  who  had  such  evidence 
of  the  divine  power  of  the  God  of  Israel  1  How  could 
they  think  of  making  any  resemblance  of  him  whom  they 
could  not  see,  but  whom  they  knew  to  be  infinite  1  How 
could  they  dare  to  profane  his  name,  who  proclaimed 
himself  to  them  by  the  incommunicable  name  of  Jeho- 
vah 1  How  could  they  refuse  to  observe  his  sacred  day, 
when  they  saw  him  command  those  luminaries  by  which 
days  and  years  are  measured  1  How  could  they  refuse 
to  render  honor  and  fear  to  those  who  derive  their  an- 


66  hall's  scripture  history. 

thorily  from  God,  when  they  saw  him  able  to  assert  his 
own,  and  maintain  that  of  his  vicegerents  upon  earth  1 
How  could  they  think  of  killings  when  they  were  so 
strongly  afTected  with  the  fear  of  Him  who  thus  mani- 
fested himself  able  to  save  and  to  destroy]  How  could 
they  think  of  the  flames  of  impure  desires^  who  beheld 
such  fires  of  vengeance  1  How  could  they  think  of  sieai- 
i?ig  from  others,  when  they  saw  who  was  Lord  of  hea- 
ven and  earth,  from  whom  their  neighbor  derived  all 
his  possessions!  How  could  they  think  o(  speaking  false- 
ly, when  they  heard  the  God  of  truth  speak  in  so  tre- 
mendous a  voice  %  How  could  they  think  of  coveting 
what  was  another's,  when  they  saw  how  weak  and  un- 
certain a  right  they  had  to  what  was  their  own! 

Lord,  to  us  was  the  moral  law  delivered,  as  well  as  to 
them.  The  letter  and  ceremonial  is  passed  away ;  the 
spirit  remains,  and  shall  remain  to  the  end  of  time.  There 
had  not  been  such  state  in  thy  promulgation  of  it,  if  thou 
hadst  not  intended  it  for  eternity.  How  should  we,  who 
comply  with  human  laws  to  avoid  some  trifling  forfeit- 
ure, how  should  we  fear  Thee,  0  God,  who  art  able  to 
cast  both  soul  and  body  into  hell  1 


U.—THE   VEIL   OF  x^IOSES. 

Scarce  a  month  was  past  since  the  Israelites  made  a 
covenant  with  Jehovah — since  they  trembled  to  hear 
him  say,  ''  Thou  shalt  have  no  other  gods  but  me " 
— and  now  they  say,  "  Make  us  gods  to  go  before  us." 
O  ye  senseless  Israelites,  have  you  so  soon  forgotten 
that  fire  and  thunder  \  Is  that  smoke  vanished  out  of 
your  viind  as  well  as  your  sight!  Can  ye,  in  the  very 


THE    VEIL    OF    MOSES.  67 

face  of  Sinai,  call  for  other  gods  1  Can  ye  presume  to 
say,  ye  know  not  what  is  become  of  Moses  1  Did  he  not 
rush  for  your  sakes  into  the  midst  of  those  flames 
which  ye  feared  to  see  afar  off]  Had  he  fled  away  from 
you  into  the  wilderness,  what  could  ye  have  done  more  1 
But  if  he  had  indeed  been  gone  for  ever,  must  ye  there- 
fore have  gods  made  1  If  ye  had  said,  "  Choose  us  anoth- 
er governor,"  it  had  been  ungrateful  and  senseless ;  but 
to  say,  "  Make  us  gods,"  was  absurdly  impious.  The  pre- 
sence of  God  depended  not  on  that  of  Moses — still  ye 
beheld  him,  though  his  servant  was  absent,  in  his  pillar 
and  in  his  manna.  Oh  the  ingratitude  of  carnal  minds! 
Who  would  not  have  said,''  Moses  is  not  with  us,  but  he 
is  with  God  for  us — he  stays  long — God,  who  called 
him,  withholds  him — his  delay  is  for  our  sakes,  as  well 
as  his  ascent.  Though  we  see  him  not,  we  will  hope  for 
him — or  if  God  will  keep  him  from  us,  he  can  supply  the 
loss,  or  conduct  us  without  him.  His  fire  and  cloud  are 
all-sufficient.  We  will,  we  can  have  no  other  God — we 
desire  not  any  other  guide."  Thus  would  faith  and  hope 
have  argued.  Natural  men  will  have  God  himself  sub- 
servient  to  their  wayward  wishes,  and  if  they  are  disap- 
pointed, will  cast  him  off — while  his  true  disciples  wait 
long  and  seek  him — not  only  in  their  sinking,  but  from 
the  bottom  of  the  deeps  call  upon  him,  and  though  he 
slay  them,  will  put  their  trust  in  him. 

Behold,  our  better  Moses  was  with  us  a  while  upon 
earth ;  he  is  now  ascended  up  to  the  heights  of  heaven 
to  intercede  and  mediate  for  us.  Shall  we  now  think 
of  another  Savior  1  Shall  we  not  hold  it  our  happiness 
that  he  is  for  our  sakes  above  1 

Sudden  fears,  when  they  have  possessed  weak  minds, 
lead  them  into  shameful  errors.  Aaron,  who  alone  fol- 
lowed Moses  into  the  trembling  and  fiery  hill  of  Sinai, 
and  heard  God  say,  *'  Thou  shalt  not  make  to  thyself 
any  graven  image,  for  I  am  a  jealous  God" — this  very 


68  HALL'S    SCRIPTURE    HISTORY. 

Aaron  calls  for  the  ear-rings  of  the  Israelites,  makes  a 
graven  image,  raises  an  altar,  consecrates  a  day  to  it, 
calls  it  their  God,  and  weeps  not  to  see  them  dance  be- 
fore it.  The  very  gold  of  Egypt  is  contagious  j  the 
ornaments  which  were  bestowed  on  Israel  in  their 
flight,  are  perverted  to  the  idolatry  of  the  first  owners. 
The  sin  was  deep  and  grievous — this  idolatry  is  shame* 
ful ;  he  whom  they  had  offended  sends  down  Moses  to 
remedy  their  sin. 

Never  was  there  so  precious  a  record  as  that  which 
Moses  now  held  in  his  hand.  How  then  durst  he  fail  in 
his  trust  to  that  God  whose  pledge  he  had  received 
with  awe  and  reverence  1  Alas,  while  we  are  in  the 
body  of  sin  nothing  can  bereave  us  of  infirmity.  He 
who  was  the  meekest  on  earth,  in  sudden  indignation 
abandons  that  which  in  a  calmer  moment  he  would 
have  held  dearer  than  his  life.  He  forgets  the  law 
written^  when  he  sees  it  broken^  and  is  more  anxious  to 
deface  the  idol  than  to  preserve  the  tables.  The  good- 
ness of  God  pardons  the  indiscretion  of  honest  zeal,  and 
doth  not  consider  the  failings  of  our  mortal  weakness 
as  an  imputation  on  our  fidelity.  Lo !  he  entrusts  Moses 
with  his  second  law,  because  he  saw  sincerity  of  heart 
even  in  his  errors. 

But  lately  did  Moses  fast  forty  days — again  he  goes 
up  to  Sinai,  and  takes  not  any  repast  with  him.  His 
meat  and  drink  was  to  do  the  will  of  Him  that  sent 
him  ;  he  goes  up  confidently,  in  the  sure  trust  that  God 
was  with  him.  There  is  no  life  comparable  to  that  of 
faith — man  does  not  live  by  bread  only.  The  vision  of 
God  satisfied  and  feasted  his  servant.  How  perfect, 
how  glorious  will  be  that  state  of  existence,  when  we 
shall  behold  Him  as  he  is,  if  the  frail  mortality  of 
Moses  was  sustained  and  comforted  with  only  the  re- 
presentation of  his  presence ! 

We   see  Moses,  who  received  the  law,  Elias,    who 


THE    VEIL    OF    MOSES.  69 

restored  it,  and  Christ,  who  fulfilled  it,  all  fasting  forty 
days  ;  and  we  find  them  together  in  glory  on  Mount 
Tabor.  Abstinence  has  no  nnerit  in  itself;  but  it  is  in 
many  cases  a  preparation  for  holy  duties.  Hence  so- 
lemn prayer  takes  fasting  to  attend  it,  and  speeds  more 
swiftly  to  heaven  when  it  is  so  accompanied. 

When  Moses  came  down  first  from  Sinai,  his  eyes 
sparkled  with  anger  and  his  face  glowed  with  zealous 
indignation — now  it  is  bright  with  glory.  Before,  there 
were  the  flames  of  fury  in  it ;  now,  the  beams  of  majes- 
ty. The  more  familiarly  we  become  acquainted  with 
God,  the  more  do  we  partake  of  his  nature.  How  did 
the  heart  of  Moses  shine  with  illumination  while  his 
face  was  thus  enlightened  ! 

That  which  should  have  comforted  the  Israelites 
afirights  them.  Aaron  himself,  who  went  up  into  the 
mount  to  see  and  speak  with  God,  is  now  afraid  of  him 
who  hath  seen  God.  Such  a  fear  there  is  in  guilt,  such 
a  security  in  innocence.  When  the  soul  is  free  from 
sin  it  shall  fly  to  that  glory  with  joy,  the  least  glimpse 
of  which  now  appals  it,  and  sends  it  away  in  terror. 

Moses  marvels  to  see  Israel  run  away  from  their 
guide,  as  from  an  enemy  ;  and  not  knowing  the  cause 
of  their  consternation,  invites,  exhorts  them  to  return. 

'^0  my  people,  whom  do  ye  fearl  It  was  for  your 
sakes  I  ascended  Sinai — for  you  I  staid — for  you  I  came 
down.  Here  are  no  armed  Lcvites  to  strike  you,  no 
Amalekites  nor  Egyptians  to  pursue  you,  no  fires  nor 
thunders  to  dismay  you.  I  have  not  the  rod  of  God  in 
my  hand,  which  ye  have  seen  command  the  elements. 
Or  if  I  had,  so  far  am  I  from  proposing  any  rigor 
against  you,  that  even  now  I  have  in  your  behalf  ap- 
peased the  wrath  of  the  Almighty  ;  and  lo !  here  is  the 
pledge  of  his  reconciliation.  God  sends  me  to  you  for 
good  5  and  do  ye  thus  quit  your  best  friend  ]  Whither 
will  ye  go,  either /row  me  or  without  me  ?  At  least  stay 


70  HALLOS    SCRIPTURE    HISTORY. 

and  hear  the  commandments  of  that  God  from  whom 
ye  cannot  flee." 

They  perceive  his  voice  the  same,  though  his  face 
was  changed — they  are  persuaded  to  stay,  to  return,  to 
hear  him  whom  they  dare  not  see — and  now,  after  many 
doubtful  steps  advancing  nearer,  take  courage  to  tell 
him  he  was  grown  too  glorious. 

Moses,  finding  they  could  not  look  on  the  sun  of  his 
face,  clouds  it  with  a  veil ;  choosing  rather  to  hide 
the  work  of  God  in  him,  than  to  want  opportunity 
of  revealing  the  divine  will  to  Israel.  He  urges  not, 
that  if  there  were  glory  in  his  face,  God  placed  it  there 
— that  he  would  not  have  placed  it  so  conspicuously 
had  he  meant  it  to  be  concealed.  He  does  not  bid  them 
hide  their  faces  rather,  which  are  blemished  with  their 
sin  ;  but  modestly  conceals  his  own  radiance,  and  seeks 
nothing  but  that  his  words  might  pierce  into  their  ears. 
It  is  good  for  a  man  sometimes  to  hide  his  graces,  and 
not  always  to  live  at  the  utmost  pitch  of  his  strength. 
The  patriarch  had  more  glory  by  his  veil  than  by 
his  face. 

Many  a  precious  jewel  is  deposited  in  the  bosom  of 
the  earth  ;  many  a  pearl  lies  hidden  in  the  abyss  of  wa- 
ters— many  a  star,  by  reason  of  its  height,  is  scarcely 
visible  to  the  eye.  How  did  our  true  Moses,  in  the  veil 
of  his  flesh,  conceal  the  glory  of  his  deity,  and  not  only 
lay  aside  his  majesty,  but  put  on  our  weakness,  con- 
cluding his  divine  miracles  with  the  charge,  "  See  thou 
tell  no  man!"  Now,  as  the  veil  of  God,  which  hid  his 
presence  in  the  holy  of  holies,  was  rent  when  the  Sa- 
vior exclaimed,  '*  It  is  finished,"  so  the  veil  of  Moses 
was  at  the  same  moment  pulled  off.  We  daily  see 
Christ,  the  completion  of  the  law — Israel  would  not 
look  to  the  end  of  that  which  should  be  abolished. 

When  Moses  went  to  speak  with  God,  he  pulled  off 
his  veil,  presenting  to  the  Almighty  the  face  he  had 


KORAH.  71 

first  made,  and  afterwards  made  glorious.  Hypocrites 
observe  a  contrary  procedure.  They  show  their  best  to 
men,  their  v:orst  to  God — but  God  sees  both  their  veil 
and  their  face  ;  and  beholds,  with  equal  abhorrence,  ihcif 
veil  of  dissimulation  and  their  face  of  wickedness. 


J5.— KORAH. 

Scarcely  had  Israel  ceased  to  feel  the  punishment 
of  their  last  act  of  disobedience  when  they  offend  yet 
more  deeply.  The  multitude  is  a  raging  sea,  full  of  the 
unquiet  billows  of  discontent.  While  God  only  threat- 
ened them  they  became  bold  in  their  sin ;  it  was  time 
they  should  be  made  acquainted  with  the  terrors  of  his 
wrath.  Other  warnings  failed  of  their  effect ;  at  last  the 
Almighty  had  recourse  to  the  arrows  of  his  heaviest 
indignation. 

In  the  mean  time  how  was  the  peace  of  Moses  de- 
stroyed by  these  successive  acts  of  rebellion  in  his  peo- 
ple !  Danger  and  calumny  were  the  rewards  of  his  la- 
borious government.  Alas,  far  more  peaceful  was  his 
lot  amidst  the  sheep  of  Jethro,  than  with  these  wolves 
of  Israel.  But,  as  he  dared  not  quit  his  crook  without 
the  authority  of  heaven,  so  neither  will  he  resign  his 
sceptre  till  he  be  dismissed  by  him  who  called  him  j  no 
troubles,  no  oppositions  will  tempt  him  to  forego  his 
duty.  Who  shall  chase  the  servant  of  God  from  that 
station  in  which  he  is  placed  by  his  Maker  1 

^Moses  is  the  prince  of  Israel,  Aaron  the  priest;  the 
one  was  mild,  the  other  popular;  they  were  brethren  in 
office  as  well  as  in  blood,  yet  both  are  conspired  against, 
both  are  opposed  at  once.    Ecclesiastical  and  civil  trea- 


72  hall's  scripture  history. 

sons  are  too  frequently  found  to  inhabit  the  same  bosom. 
There  cannot  be  conceived  an  honor  ^vhich  tended 
less  to  excite  envy,  than  this  principality  of  Israel;  a 
people  who  could  bestow  nothing,  who  had  nothing 
themselves  but  in  distant  reversion  ;  a  people  whom 
their  leader,  as  the  vehicle  of  God's  mercies,  sustained 
with  miraculous  bread  and  water ;  a  people,  the  care  of 
whom  was  only  a  burden  ;  and  who  repaid  the  greatest 
benefits  with  the  deepest  ingratitude.  And  yet  this  dig- 
nity renders  Moses  obnoxious  to  Korah  and  his  com- 
panions. Nature  is  ever  envious  and  disdainful,  and  loves 
to  undermine  those  walls  which  it  cannot  scale.  Three 
traitors,  on  the  most  frivolous  pretences,  seduce  from 
their  allegiance  two  hundred  and  fifty  rulers,  famous  in 
the  congregation,  men  of  renown. 

Nothing  can  be  more  pleasing  to  the  populace  than  to 
hear  their  governors  slandered  and  themselves  unjustly 
praised.  "All  the  congregation  is  holy,  every  one  of 
them.  Wherefore  lift  ye  up  yourselves  1"  Every  word 
of  the  charge  is  false.  Moses  sought  to  abase  himself. 
It  was  God  that  exalted  him  over  Israel.  And  in  propor- 
tion to  the  arrogance  of  Moses  was  the  holiness  of  his 
adversaries!  It  was  a  tissue  of  infidelity,  cowardice, 
idolatry,  envy,  mutiny  and  disobedience.  If  this  be  ho- 
liness, where  shall  we  seek  for  impiety  1  The  vengeance 
of  God  was  even  now  fresh  in  their  memory — vengeance 
drawn  on  them  by  repeated  offences  against  the  Majesty 
of  heaven — and  yet  these  miscreants  say,  ''  All  Israel 
is  holy !" 

I\Ioses  argues  not  for  himself,  but  has  recourse  to 
God;  and  the  same  tongue  that  appeals  against  the  con- 
spirators prays  for  the  people.  Korah  had  so  far  pre- 
vailed that  he  had  seduced  the  multitude  to  his  side. 
And  now  God,  jealous  of  his  insulted  honor,  threatens 
to  exterminate  them  at  once,  when  he  is  addressed  in 
their  behalf  by  that  priest  and  by  that  prophet  against 


KORAH.  73 

whom  their  tumultuous  outcries  were  directed.  Moses 
and  Aaron  were  more  sensible  of  the  injuries  done  to 
religion  than  to  themselves ;  they  were  well  aware  that 
these  traitors  deserved  only  death;  and  yet  they  could 
not  endure  the  thought  of  obtaining  tranquillity  by  the 
sufferings  of  their  enemies.  The  people  rise  up  against 
their  governors.  The  governors  fall  prostrate  before 
God  and  implore  his  mercy  on  the  people  ;  so  far  are 
they  from  meditating  revenge  that  they  prevail  with 
their  heavenly  Avenger  to  suspend  the  stroke  of  his 
indignation. 

Korah  kindled  the  fire^-two  hundred  and  fifty  princes 
spread  the  flames — all  the  congregation  repair  to  the 
pernicious  light — but  only  the  incendiaries  perish.  In 
the  midst  of  God's  most  tremendous  anger  he  can  dis- 
tinguish between  the  depravity  of  the  seducers  and  the 
ignorance  and  folly  of  those  whom  they  mislead.  Now 
do  the  Israelites  owe  their  life  to  them  whose  authority 
they  denied,  whose  destruction  they  meditated.  "Get 
you  up  from  the  tabernacles  of  Korah."  The  very  so- 
ciety of  wicked  men,  especially  in  their  sins,  is  full  of 
the  most  alarming  danger.  If  we  will  not  separate  our- 
selves from  them  we  must  expect  to  be  involved  in  their 
condemnation.  By  associating  with  them  we  share  in 
their  crimes  j  what  marvel  if  we  share  in  their  punish- 
ment 1 

As  yet  it  was  not  too  late  :  had  Korah  even  now  ac- 
knowledged his  complicated  guilt,  the  uplifted  arm  of 
vengeance  would  not  have  fallen.  But  the  presumptu- 
ous traitor  and  his  associates  stand  boldly  in  their  tents, 
as  if  they  would  out-face  the  vengeance  of  God — as  if 
Moses  had  never  wrought  a  miracle  before  them — as 
if  no  one  Israelite  had  ever  bled  for  rebelling.  Pride  and 
infidelity  harden  the  heart  and  make  even  cowards 
presumptuous. 

As  soon  as  the  more  innocent  are  departed  the  guilty 

Script.  Hist.  ^ 


7i  HALL  S    SCRIPTURE    HISTORY. 

perish.  The  ground  cleaves  asunder  and  swallows  up 
the  rebels  !  To  have  seen  them  stricken  dead  in  the 
moment  of  their  sin  had  been  fearful ;  but  to  see  the 
earth  at  once  their  executioner  and  their  grave,  was 
still  more  horrible.  All  the  elements  conspire  to  obey 
their  Creator.  Both  sea  and  earth  close  their  jaws  upon 
the  adversaries  of  God.  Now  might  Israel  see  against 
whom  they  had  exalted  their  voice  and  lifted  up  their 
eyes  on  high. 

It  is  dangerous  to  usurp  sacred  functions  :  the  mi- 
nistry will  not  protect  the  man  ;  the  man  may  disgrace 
the  ministry.  Nadab  and  Abihu  brought  unhallowed 
fire — Korah  and  his  company  unhallowed  persons — both 
perish  by  the  just  judgment  of  God. 

The  common  people,  who  had  assembled  by  the  flat- 
tering persuasions  of  these  rebels,  now  run  with  terror 
from  the  sight  of  their  doom  ;  not  trusting  the  very 
earth  they  stood  on,  while  they  knew  their  hearts  had 
been  false.  Blessed  arc  they  who  flee  from  sin  and  not 
from  punishment. 

But,  alas,  when  shall  we  see  an  end  of  these  murmur- 
ings  and  the  ensuing  judgments!  Because  Korah  re- 
belled he  was  consumed  with  his  associates  ;  because 
they  were  consumed,  the  people  rise  up  against  Moses 
and  Aaron ;  and  again  judgment  falls  on  them  for  their 
disobedience — wrath  is  gone  out  from  the  Lord:  the 
plague  is  begun. 

Moses,  though  the  beloved  of  God,  dares  not  take 
upon  himself  this  reconciliation.  He  knew  that  it  was 
the  priesfs  ofHce  to  make  atonement  for  the  people. 
Aaron  only  must  ofler  up  the  incense  of  public  prayer 
to  God  ;  Aaron,  whom  these  rebels  had  rejected  with 
contempt,  can  alone  prevent  the  general  destruction. 

The  holy  man,  armed  with  the  shield  of  his  proper 
ministry,  presents  himself  before  an  avenging  God  ;  as 
if  he  had  said,  *'  Smite  me^^  O  Lord,  or  spare  thy  dclud- 


BALAAM.  75 

ed  Israel !"  He  stands  boldly  between  the  living  and 
the  dead,  as  if  he  would  either  die  with  the  one  or 
would  have  the  other  live  with  him.  The  ministers  of 
God  must  not  regard  their  own  perils  in  the  general 
calamities  of  the  church ;  their  prayers  must  ascend  to 
heaA-en  and  arrest  the  stroke  of  vengeance.  When  the 
fire  of  God's  anger  is  kindled  their  censers  must  smoke 
from  the  altar.  Every  christian  must  pray  for  the  re- 
moval of  the  Divine  indignation;  much  more  they 
whom  God  hath  appointed  to  mediate  for  his  people. 
The  atonement  of  Aaron  found  acceptance  with  the 
Almighty;  he  spared  the  offenders  because  he  would 
not  strike  the  intercessor. 

And  if  Aaron's  sacrifice  was  thus  efTectual,  how 
much  more  shall  the  Mediator  of  a  better  covenant  de- 
liver offenders  from  wrath  1  Thou,  the  great  High  Priest 
of  our  profession,  didst  thus  stand  between  the  dead 
and  the  living,  that  all  who  believe  in  thee  should  not 
perish.  Aaron  offered,  and  was  not  stricken  ;  but  thou, 
0  Savior,  wouldst  offer,  and  even  become  the  victim, 
that  by  thy  stripes  we  might  be  healed — that  we  might 
be  ransomed  from  the  power  of  the  grave.  Thou  art  he 
that  llvest  and  wast  dead  ;  and  behold  thou  art  alive  for 
evermore,  who  art  also  on  the  throne  of  God,  who 
makest  intercession  for  us.  Amen. 


16.— B  A  LA  AM. 

The  destruction  of  the  kings  of  the  Amorites  and  of 
Bashan  disturbs  not  Balak,  till  he  beholds  the  conquer- 
ors encamped  on  the  plains  of  Moab.  They  are  encamp- 
ed, indeed,  but  without  menace  of  hostility ;  travellers, 


76  iull's  scripture  history. 

powerful  to  avenge  themselves  if  injured,  but  neitlier 
invaders  nor  oppressors.  Now  he  joins  with  Midian  in 
consultation  against  them,  and  tries  to  effect  their  ruin 
by  the  tongue  of  Balaam.  When  other  projects  are  in- 
effectual the  magician  is  sought  to.  Why  did  not  the 
king  of  Moab  come  to  Israel  with  overtures  of  friend- 
ship 1  Why  did  he  not  reflect,  "Either  the  God  of  Is- 
rael is  7?iore  or  less  mighty  than  Chemosh  1  If  less,  why 
are  we  afraid  of  him?  If  more,  why  do  we  not  serve 
him  1  The  same  hand  which  gives  them  victory  can 
give  us  protection  1" 

The  malicious  reap  no  joy  from  their  own  prosperity 
while  the  objects  of  their  hatred  are  prosperous.  Had 
Balak  desired  nothing  but  security  for  Moah^  he  would 
have  requested  a  blessing  from  the  prophet  on  his  owa 
people  ;  not  an  execration  upon  Israel.  Alas,  if  the  curs- 
es of  evil  men  could  be  effectual,  the  world  would  be 
darkness  and  desolation.  The  king  of  Moab  shall  learn 
that  short  is  the  power  of  Balaam  ;  that  neither  himself 
nor  his  prophet  can  avoid  that  vengeance  which  he 
seeks  to  bring  down  on  the  militant  church  of  God. 

Let  it  not  be  matter  of  surprise  to  us,  that  the  true 
God  addresses  himself  to  a  false  prophet.  He  may  be- 
stow words  where  he  will  not  bestow  favor.  It  is  not 
merely  the  sound  of  the  Divine  voice  which  publishes 
loving-kindness  and  mercy.  He  may  speak  to  an 
enemy ;  he  speaks  peace,  only  to  his  children.  It  is  a 
vain  boast, "  God  hath  spoken  to  me."  What  spake  he  1 
Did  he  say  to  thy  soul,  ''  I  am  thy  salvation  1"  Did  he 
make  a  covenant  with  thee,  that  he  would  be  thy  God, 
and  that  thou  shouldst  be  his  servant  (  They  that  hear 
this  voice  have  indeed  a  blessed  foretaste  of  heaven. 

God  prevents  both  the  journey  and  the  curse  of  Ba- 
laam. He,  who  knows  how  insufficient  is  the  malice  of 
wicked  men,  will  not  allow  the  king  of  Moab  the  poor 
encouragement  he  sought.    Balak  esteemed  the  sorcer- 


BALAAM.  77 

er  a  true  prophet ;  and  Jehovah  would  not  hare  his 
name  profaned  among  the  heathen  by  the  usurping  it 
to  a  diabolical  purpose.  How  many  evils  does  the  Al- 
mighty avert,  of  the  existence  of  which  we  are  igno- 
rant !  The  sons  of  Jacob  are  at  peace  in  their  tents — 
they  know  not  what  is  meditating  against  them — God 
alone  hears,  and  derides,  and  brings  to  nought  the 
counsels  of  their  enemies.  He  that  keepelh  Israel 
maketh  the  devices  of  the  wicked  to  be  of  none  effect, 
and  casteth  out  the  counsels  of  the  princes. 

The  proflered  rewards  would  at  once  have  procured 
the  presence  and  the  curse  of  a  covetous  prophet,  if 
God  had  not  forbidden  him.  How  often  are  wicked  men 
checked  by  Divine  Providence,  even  where  they  have 
every  probability  of  success!  Whence  is  it  that  the 
world  is  not  over-run  with  evil,  but  because  the  good- 
ness of  God  endureth  continually  1 

Balaam  at  first  view  appears  wise  and  honest — he  will 
not  give  a  sudden  answer — he  demands  leisure  to  con- 
sult with  God,  and  declares  he  will  be  regulated  by 
the  word  of  the  Almighty.  But  when  he  is  called  on 
to  act^  he  prevaricates  and  dissembles — suppresses  the 
oracle  of  heaven,  ''  thou  shalt  not  curse  the  people,  for 
they  are  blessed" — insinuates  his  ov.n  eagerness  in  the 
cause,  and  casts  the  blame  of  the  prohibition  on  God, 
*'  The  Lord  refuseth  to  give  me  leave  to  go  with  you." 

The  message  is  not  such  as  to  make  Balak  despair 
of  attaining  the  object  of  his  wishes:  more  princes,  and 
more  honorable,  form  his  second  embassy.  0  that  we 
Vv'ere  as  solicitous  to  obtain  the  favor  of  heaven  as 
wicked  men  are  to  strengthen  their  alliance  w^ith  the 
powers  of  darkness!  Why  do  we  faint  in  spiritual 
things  when  the  gifts  of  God  are  not  de?iieJ^  but  de- 
layed 1 

How  artful  is  falsehood  when  assuming  the  garb  of 
truth !  Here  was  piety  in  the  lips  of  Balaam,  but  covet- 


'78  Hall's  scripture  history. 

ousness  in  his  heart.  If  he  had  not  been  disposed  to 
listen  to  the  king  of  Moab,  why  did  he  again  apply 
to  God  after  he  had  received  so  positive  a  refusal  1  If 
his  mind  had  not  been  seduced  already,  why  did  he 
detain  the  messengers  1  why  did  he  expect  a  change 
in  God  1  why  did  he  give  hopes  of  success  to  those 
who  gave  him  hopes  of  recompense  1  One  prohibition 
is  enough  for  a  good  man ;  he  dares  not  ask  a  second 
time  what  has  once  been  peremptorily  forbidden. 

Yet  has  this  importunity  obtained  a  permission,  but 
a  permission  worse  than  a  denial.  Some  things  God 
tolerates  in  his  indignation;  not  approving  the  act,  but 
suffering  the  sinner  to  proceed  in  his  path  of  disobe- 
dience. God  commands  Balaam  to  go,  as  Solomon  di- 
rects the  young  man  to  walk  in  the  way  of  his  heart, 
and  after  the  sight  of  his  eyes.  "  My  people  would  not 
hear  my  voice — would  not  obey  me — so  I  gave  them  up 
to  their  own  hearts'  lusts,  and  let  them  follow  their  own 
imaginations."  It  is  as  if  he  had  said,  "  Since  thou  art  so 
eager  f 01'  the  journey y  be  gone.^^  How  much  better  is  it 
to.  have  a  gracious  denial,  than  an  angry  acquiescence 
from  God  % 

Now  does  the  covetous  Balaam  hasten  on  his  way — 
now  he  makes  himself  sure  of  his  success — his  corrupt 
heart  tells  him,  that  as  God  had  relented  in  one  instance, 
he  might  also  in  another,  and  might  give  permission  to 
curse.  The  night  seems  long  to  his  impatience ;  the 
prospect  of  wealth  will  not  suffer  him  to  sleep ;  his 
eyes  prevent  the  nightwatches,  that  he  might  be  occu- 
pied in  evil. 

It  is  no  marvel  that  the  anger  of  heaven  should  be 
excited  against  such  criminal  solicitude.  God,  who 
saw  the  heart  of  Balaam,  saw  what  disposition  reigned 
there ;  he  saw  that  his  covetous  desires  and  wicked 
hopes  grew  stronger  the  more  nearly  they  seemed  to 
approach  to  their  completion ;  he  saw,  that  if  he  wanted 


BALAAM.  79 

the  power  he  did  not  want  the  inclinailon  to  curse.  Our 
inward  disposition  is  the  life  of  our  actions  j  by  this 
doth  the  God  of  spirits  try  us^  while  men  pass  judg- 
ment on  our  external  conduct.  An  angel  is  sent  to 
withhold  the  hasty  sorcerer — the  dumb  ass,  speaking 
with  man's  voice,  forbids  the  madness  of  the  prophet. 

Notwithstanding  this  miraculous  interference,  which 
should  have  filled  him  with  horror  and  astonishment, 
he  dares  yet  proceed  on  his  journey.  Now  are  mes- 
sengers sent  to  Balak  with  news  of  the  approach  of  his 
welcome  guest.  He  who  sent  princes  to  summon  him 
to  his  court,  comes  himself  on  the  way  to  meet  him — 
pays  the  most  extravagant  honors  to  one  from  whom 
he  expects  the  elevation  of  Moab — prepares,  as  for  a 
festival,  for  the  execration  of  his  enemies. 

The  superstitious  king,  as  if  he  had  already  obtained 
his  purpose,  feasts  his  prophet,  his  princes,  his  people  ; 
and  on  the  morrow  carries  the  soothsayer  to  the  high 
places  of  his  idol.  Who  can  now  doubt  that  Balaam  is 
a  false  prophet,  when  he  is  seen  sacrificing  in  the 
mount  of  Baal '{  Had  he  adhered  to  the  cause  of  truth, 
he  would  have  said,  ''  Throw  down  these  trophies  of 
idolatry,"  not,  "  Build  me  here  seven  altars.""  But  here 
is  nothing  but  a  vain-glorious  and  magnificent  pretence 
of  devotion.  False  worshippers  make  pompous  shows 
of  piety,  and  splendid  exhibitions  of  religion  ;  but  God 
knoweth  the  heart. 

Now,  when  Balaam  sees  his  victims  smoking  on  the 
altars,  he  goes  up  into  the  mount,  a  counterfeit  Moses, 
to  receive  the  answer  of  God.  ''  And  will  God  meet 
v/ith  a  sorcerer  1  will  he  make  a  prophet  of  a  magi- 
cian V  Nay,  but,  O  man,  who  art  thou  that  prescribest 
to  God  what  instruments  he  shall  use  ]  He  knows  how 
to  employ  not  only  saints  and  angels,  but  evil  men  and 
evil  spirits  to  his  own  glory.  Balaam  utters  only  bless- 
ings on  the  people  of  God,  declares  their  future  great- 


80  hall's  scripture  history. 

ness  and  dominion,  and  even  foretels  the  promised  Mes- 
siah, the  Star  of  Jacob,  the  Sceptre  of  Israel.  How 
many  shall  say,  ^'  Lord,  have  we  not  prophesied  in  thy 
name  V  to  whom  it  shall  be  answered,  ''  I  say  unto  yon, 
I  know  you  not  whence  ye  are :  Depart  from  me,  ye 
workers  of  iniquity." 

What  a  madness  is  that  of  Balaam,  who  hopes  to 
change  success  by  change  of  place,  and  still  dares  to 
importune  his  God  for  permission  to  curse !  The  re- 
ward was  before  him  on  the  one  hand,  the  avenging 
angel  on  the  other ;  he  loved  the  bribe,  but  he  feared 
the  angel.  And,  while  he  is  in  this  distraction,  his 
tongue  blesses  against  his  heart ;  his  heart  curses 
against  his  tongue ;  till  at  last,  rather  than  lose  his 
hopes,  he  resolves  to  speak  worse  than  curses — brings 
down  vengeance  on  the  people  of  God  by  enticing  them 
to  sin,  and  justly  perishes  by  the  sword  of  Israel. 


17.— THE  DEATH  OF  MOSES, 

After  many  painful  and  dangerous  enterprises  the 
great  leader  of  Israel  draws  near  to  his  rest.  He  had 
conducted  his  people  from  Egypt,  through  the  sea 
and  through  the  wilderness,  within  sight  of  the  promis- 
ed inheritance.  Now  is  he  called  on  to  take  posses- 
sion of  that  better  country,  whereof  the  land  which 
flowed  with  milk  and  honey  was  nothing  more  than  a 
figure.  When  we  have  fulfilled  the  work  which  our 
heavenly  Father  hath  appointed  us,  to  depart  and  be 
with  Christ  is  the  best  of  all  rewards.  This  earth  is 
appointed  for  labor,  not  for  enjoyment :  the  services  of 
the  children  of  God  would  meet  with  a  wretched  re- 


THE   DEATH    OF    MOSES.  81 

compense  if  they  were  always  to  remain  in  the  regions 
of  mortality.  Let  no  man  therefore  repine  when  he 
sees  those  summoned  from  the  world  who  have  been 
faithful  to  their  duty  :  God  hath  proved  them,  and  found 
them  worthy  for  himself.  How  vain  the  wish  that  good 
men  should  live  for  ever  !  How  vain  the  regret  that  they 
are  no  more !  He  who  sent  them  into  the  world  will 
confer  on  them  blessings  of  a  more  exalted  nature  than 
the  world  can  bestow  on  them.  Precious  in  the  sight  of 
the  Lord  is  the  death  of  his  saints.  It  were  injurious  to 
wish  that  excellence  should  hinder  any  man  from  glory. 

God,  who  gave  us  a  being,  calls  us  hence  according 
to  his  own  good  pleasure.  In  the  case  of  Moses,  the 
time,  the  place,  and  every  circumstance  of  his  dissolu- 
tion is  previously  arranged.  He  must  ascend  the  hill 
to  die.  On  Mount  Horeb  he  received  his  charge.  On 
Mount  Sinai  it  was  confirmed  to  him.  On  Mount  Nebo 
he  surrendered  it  to  his  God.  On  Mount  Tabor  he  a]!- 
pears  in  celestial  splendor,  to  clo  homage  to  the  Ee- 
deemer  of  mankind.  It  is  a  manifest  token  of  the  good- 
ness of  our  heavenly  Father,  if,  v.hen  he  calls  his  chil- 
dren from  the  wilderness  of  life,  he  enables  them  in  the 
hour  of  their  departure  to  see  the  land  of  promise  be- 
fore them,  and  bids  them  ^'  rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory 
of  God." 

In  what  familiar  terms  is  Moses  made  acquainted 
with  his  endl  The  word  of  God  addresses  him,  '^Go 
up,  and  die."  To  a  soul  properly  prepared  for  its  de- 
parture the  tidings  of  approaching  death  are  neither 
strange  nor  horrible  ;  the  tyrant  is  bereaved  of  his  ter- 
rors if  his  arrival  hath  been  the  constant  subject  of  our 
solemn  meditation.  The  christian  considers  the  grave 
as  an  introduction  to  glory  and  to  God,  and  obeys  the 
mandate  of  his  Crealor  with  serenity.  They,  indeed, 
who  know  him  not,  they  who  have  lived  without  faith, 
without  hope,  a))d  as  it  were  without  God  in  the  vx'orld, 

4* 


83  hall's  scripture  history. 

have  good  cause  to  tremble,  both  in  their  life  and  in  the 
hour  of  their  dissolution. 

God,  who  had  so  often  condescended  to  take  coun- 
sel as  it  were  with  Moses,  and  to  impart  to  him  the  de- 
crees of  his  providence  respecting  Israel,  now  tells  the 
prophet  what  shall  befall  /ii?n,self.  It  is  a  great  advan- 
tage to  us  to  have  time  afforded  us  for  preparation  in 
the  most  important  events  of  /?/<?,  how  much  more  at 
the  time  of  our  departure  from  the  world  !  It  is  a  token 
of  judgment,  to  come  as  "  a  thief  in  the  night."  We 
pray  God  to  avert  from  us  the  terrible  danger  of  unpre- 
pared death.  Had  the  fiery  chariot  taken  away  Elijah 
without  his  being  previously  taught  to  expect  it,  we 
should  have  doubted  whether  it  had  been  sent  in  anger 
or  in  mercy.  God  forewarns  one  by  sickness,  another 
by  old  age,  another  by  the  loss  of  all  earthly  comfort. 
If  the  heart  is  not  detached  from  worldly  delusions,  it 
is  because  of  our  own  folly  and  obduracy,  and  we  must 
abide  by  the  consequence  ! 

Long  had  God  decreed  that  Moses  should  not  set  his 
foot  in  the  promised  land.  Since  that  time  he  had  re- 
ceived many  favors  from  above  ;  but  the  sentence  was 
gone  forth  from  Him,  who  saith  of  himself,  ''  I  am  Je- 
hovah— I  change  not."  Our  purposes  are  like  ourselves, 
fickle  and  uncertain.  His  are  fixed  and  immutable. 
Hath  he  said,  and  shall  he  not  do  it  1  Hath  he  purposed, 
and  shall  he  not  make  it  good]  His  hand  is  stretched 
out,  and  who  shall  turn  it  back  ? 
I  Moses,  who  had  been  so  careful  for  the  welfare  of  Is- 
rael during  his  life,  preserves  the  same  tender  anxiety 
at  the  moment  of  his  death.  He  takes  no  thought  for 
himself  j  he  knows  that  the  exciiange  v/iil  to  him  be  in- 
finitely advantageous.  His  warfare  is  accomplished ; 
his  iniquity  is  pardoned.  Let  the  sceptre  but  pass  into 
a  righteous  hand,  he  dies  in  peace.  Some  envious  na- 
tures make   use  of  government  only  for  their  own  ad- 


THE    DKATH    OF    MOSES.  83 

vantage  ;  good  hearts  ever  consider  the  future  benefit 
of  the  church  beyond  their  own.  Moses  did  well  to 
show  his  affection  to  the  people  j  but  had  he  been  silent 
CJod  would  have  provided  a  shepherd  for  the  sheep  of 
his  pasture.  That  wisdom  which  called  the  prophet 
from  the  flocks  of  Jethro,  will  appoint  him  no  unworthy 
successor.  Who  can  be  more  proper  to  receive  the  sa- 
cred trust  than  one  whose  name,  whose  experience, 
whose  talents,  whose  virtues  would  supply,  would  as 
it  were  revive  Moses  to  the  people  1  Joshua,  who  had 
searched  the  land  befoa'e,  was  best  qualified  to  guide 
Israel  into  it.  Joshua,  who  was  endued  with  the  spirit 
of  God,  was  best  qualified  to  be  his  representative. 

And  well  doth  Joshua  succeed  Moses.  The  very  acts 
of  God  in  old  time  were  allegories.  Where  ihe  law^ 
ends,  there  the  Savior  begins.  In  the  law  we  only  see 
the  land  of  promise.  Jesus,  the  mediator  of  the  New 
Testament  (whom  Joshua  prefigured  in  name  as  well  as 
in  office)  can  alone  condvcl  us  into  it.  So  was  he  a  ser- 
vant of  the  law,  that  he  supplied  to  us  all  its  defects ; 
he  hath  taken  possession  of  our  inheritance  for  us;  he 
shall  carry  us  from  this  wilderness  to  our  rest. 

Happy  is  that  people  whose  rulers  bear  the  sceptre 
in  righteousness  ;  where  the  sovereign  over  men  knows 
no  higher  title  than  that  w-hich  proclaims  him  the  minis- 
ter of  God  !  such  authority  proceeds  from  above,  and 
is  maintained  and  supported  by  an  Almighty  arm — while 
violence,  injustice,  and  oppression,  at  once  make  the 
people  miserable,  and  proceed  from  one  who  is  the  au- 
thor of  all  confusion.  Wretched  is  the  state  that  suflers 
such  tyranny  ;  wretched  is  the  person  w  ho  inflicts  it ; 
for  both  of  them  have  sold  themselves,  ihe  one  to  ser- 
vitude, the  other  to  sin. 

What  an  example  of  meekness  do  we  behold  in  the 
last  act  of  Moses  1  He  willingly  lays  his  hands  on  his 
servant   and   consecrates   him  to   be   his  successor.    A 


84  hall's  scripture  history. 

gracious  heart  acquiesces  with  cheerfulness  in  the  ad- 
vancement of  those  whom  God  delights  to  honor.  Envy 
and  discontent  belong  to  carnal  minds ;  peace  and  hu- 
mility are  ever  attendant  on  true  religion. 

The  same  God  who  by  his  angels  carried  up  the  spirit 
of  Moses  to  glory,  by  his  angels  transports  his  body  into 
the  valley  of  Moab  for  sepulture.  Those  hands,  which 
had  taken  the  law"  from  God — those  eyes,  which  had 
seen  his  presence — those  lips,  which  had  conversed 
with  the  Almighty — that  face,  which  had  been  irradia- 
ted with  beams  of  heavenly  glory,  must  not  be  neglect- 
ed, though  the  soul  is  gone.  He  who  preserved  his  in- 
fant body  amidst  the  bulrushes,  takes  charge  even  of 
bis  lifeless  remains.  The  care  of  God  is  manifested  to- 
wards his  children,  both  in  life  and  in  death. 
I  If  the  ministry  of  man  had  been  used  in  this  grave  of 
Moses,  the  place  would  have  been  known  to  the  Israel- 
ites— but  God  purposely  conceals  this  treasure,  to  re- 
move from  his  people  any  danger  of  superstition.  Had 
the  relics  of  saints  been  just  objects  of  adoration,  where 
had  there  been  so  fit  an  opportunity  as  this  for  the  ex- 
ercise of  it  1 

1  Lo,  in  the  transfiguration,  this  body,  which  was  hid  in 
the  valley  of  Moab,  appears  on  the  hill  of  Tabor.  We 
know  that  our  earthly  tabernacles  at  the  hour  of  death 
are  not  lost,  but  laid  up.  They  are  sown  in  weakness — 
they  are  raised  in  power.  When  Christ,  who  is  our 
Life,  shall  appear,  then  shall  we  also  appear  together 
with  him  in  glory. 


JOSHUA.  85 


18.— JOSHUA 


The  successor  of  Moses  had  formerly  viewed  the  land 
of  Canaan  in  person.  He  was  full  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
and  had  the  oracle  of  God  ready  for  his  direction — yet 
does  he  address  two  spies  for  a  more  particular  survey. 
Joshua  had  been  assured  that  he  should  lead  Israel  into 
the  promised  land  ;  but  he  knew  it  was  unsafe  to  pre- 
sume. He  was  aware  that  his  success  would  not  bo 
complete  without  his  own  best  exertions.  Heaven  is 
promised  to  us — but  not  to  our  carelessness,  infidelity 
or  disobedience.  He  who  sets  this  blessed  inheritance 
before  us,  presupposes  our  diligence,  our  failh,  our  ho- 
liness. 

The  spies  repair  to  the  city  of  Jericho — to  the  house 
of  Rahab.  The  goodness  of  God  hath  already  prepared 
for  their  reception,  and  hath  raised  up  a  friend  to  his 
people  in  a  woman  that  was  a  sinner.  Who  shall  assign 
limits  to  the  mercy  of  heaven  1  To  presume  on  it,  is 
audacity — to  despair,  is  infatuation. 

It  is  an  easy  act  of  duty  to  show  favor  to  the  pro- 
fessors of  religion  when  the  public  countenance  of  the 
state  befriends  them ;  but  Rahab  hazards  her  life  for 
these  strangers — provides  for  their  security  against 
their  enemies — neglects  her  own  countrymen,  and  fears 
not  the  extreme  displeasure  of  her  king.  We  do  not  find 
so  great  faith,  no  not  in  Israel.  She  had  heard  God's 
former  wonders  ;  and,  by  his  past  judgments,  she  wisely 
considered  of  those  which  were  to  come.  Her  failh,  an- 
ticipating the  victories  of  Israel,  provided  not  only  for 
her  own  safety  but  for  that  of  her  family.  Nature  and 
grace  enjoin  us  to  consult  the  eternal  welfare  of  all, 
chiefly  of  those  who  are  joined  to  us  by  the  ties  of  blood 
or  alliance.  Rahab,  ere  she  dismisses  these  Israelites, 
makes  a  covenant  w^ith  them,  that  she,  who  had  saved 


S6  HALLOS    SCRIPTURE    HlSTOnV. 

their  lives,  might  afterwards  be  saved  by  them  in  return. 

The  spies  bring  news  of  approaching  triumph  to  the 
camp  of  Israel.  *'  They  faint  because  of  us — therefore 
the  land  is  ours."  The  country  is  populous — the  inha- 
bitants are  prepared  for  war ;  but  the  Lord  of  Hosts  is 
with  us — the  God  of  Jacob  goeth  before  us.  Joshua  is 
on  his  march  by  morning ;  and  nothing  now^  detains  the 
children  of  Israel  from  the  land  of  promise  but  the  wa- 
ters of  Jordan. 

Now  the  cloud  vanishes  wiiich  hath  led  them  all  the 
way — now  they  participate  for  the  last  time  of  their 
celestial  food.  These  supernatural  aids  were  for  their 
pilgrimage,  not  their  rest — for  the  wilderness,  not  for 
Canaan.  Yet  He  who  before  guided  them  in  the  cloudy 
now  conducts  them  by  the  ark — the  ark  of  the  testimo- 
ny, which  witnessed  both  his  presence  and  his  love. 
Within  it  were  the  Cherubim,  the  law,  the  incorruptible 
manna.  Who  can  wish  for  a  better  guide  to  the  land  of 
promise  than  the  God  of  heaven,  his  word,  his  ordi- 
nances 1  What  means  can  so  well  direct  us  thither  as 
those  of  his  own  institution! 

Nothing  is  so  comfortable  to  a  good  heart  as  to  see 
the  pledges  of  God's  presence  and  favor — to  hear  of  his 
loving-kindness  is  pleasant,  but  to  behold  and  experience 
his  mercy  is  the  fulness  of  joy.  What  a  happy  prospect 
hath  God  set  before  its,  of  Christ  Jesus  crucified  for  us, 
;ind  oflered  to  our  souls  ! 

The  same  power  which  divided  the  Red  Sea  before 
Moses,  divides  Jordan  before  Joshua,  that  his  people 
might  see  the  ark  as  eflectual  as  the  cloud,  and  the 
hand  of  God  as  present  with  Joshua  to  bring  them  into 
Canaan,  as  it  was  with  Moses  to  bring  them  out  of 
Egypt.  The  virtue  of  the  priests  who  bare  the  ark  was 
put  to  its  proof — they  must  first  set  their  foot  in  the 
river  Jordan,  under  the  confidence  that  a  way  shall  be 
inaJe  for  them  ih rough  its  waters.    They  whose  calling 


JOSHUA.  87 

brings  ihem  near  to  God,  must  be  examples  to  men  of 
faith  as  well  as  obedience. 

The  floods  acknowledge  their  Maker.  That  stream 
into  which  Christ  afterwards  went  to  be  baptized  re- 
tires when  the  angel  of  the  covenant  approaches  it  with 
liis  host.  The  presence  of  the  ark  is  a  sign  to  these 
waters,  which  flow  back  to  their  source,  as  not  daring 
to  touch  the  feet  of  the  priests  who  carried  it.  ''  What 
ailed  thee,  O  thou  sea,  that  thou  fleddest,  and  thou,  Jor- 
dan, that  thou  wast  driven  backl"  The  God  who  made, 
controls  the  very  nature^  of  his  elements.  With  what 
joy  did  his  people  tread  on  the  dry  channel  of  Jordan, 
when  they  saw  the  promised  land  before  them!  God 
overcomes  all  their  difficulties,  removes  every  obstacle 
to  their  success.  0  Lord,  we  commit  unto  thee  the 
beginning,  the  progress,  and  the  completion  of  our  glo- 
ry. Faithful  art  thou  who  hast  promised — thou  also 
wilt  do  it. 

Now  the  Israelites  see  those  cities  and  towers  who.se 
height  was  reported  to  reach  to  heaven — now  do  they 
prepare  for  hostilities  against  a  people  once  the  object 
of  their  terror.  They  do  not  say  in  distrust,  "  How 
shall  we  scale  these  invincible  fortifications]"  What 
engines  shall  we  use  for  so  vast  a  work  V  They  know 
the  efficacy  of  that  promise,  ^'  Behold,  I  have  given  Je- 
richo into  thine  hand."  If  the  walls  of  the  city  had  their 
foundations  in  the  centre  of  the  earth — if  the  battle- 
ments had  been  so  high  that  an  eagle  could  not  soar 
over  them,  this  word  '^  I  have  given"  were  enough.  In 
vain  are  the  walls  impregnable,  the  men  valiant,  the 
leaders  skilful,  the  king  prudent.  What  can  swords  or 
spears,  what  can  wisdom  or  counsel  do  against  almighty 
power  1  Had  the  captain  of  the  Lord's  host  drawn  the 
sword. /or  Jericho,  the  gates  might  have  been  opened — 
Israel  could  then  no  more  have  taken  the  city  than  they 
could  be  prevented  from  entering  when  the  walls  were 


8S  hall's  scripture  nisTORy. 

fallen.  But  uhat  a  siege  was  this  of  Jericho  !  The  men 
of  war  compass  the  city  with  trumpets — no  mount  was 
raised,  no  weapon  drawn,  no  engine  planted.  Doubtless 
the  inhabitants  grew  scornful  and  secure — they  mocked 
the  God  of  Israel,  and  deemed  him  as  it  were  in  jest, 
when  he  was  preparing  for  their  judgment.  The  ways 
of  the  Almighty  arc  not  like  our  ways — if  our  reason 
cannot  keep  pace  with  his  counsels,  let  us  not  therefore 
question  his  mighty  power,  his  infinite  wisdom.  Let  us 
follow  his  licavenly  guidance — let  us  commit  our  cause 
to  him,  and  the  hour  Avill  surely  come,  when  with  a 
shout  of  exultation  we  shall  say,  "  Thanks  be  to  God 
who  giveth  us  the  victory,  through  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ!" 

The  ark  of  God  casts  down  the  walls  of  a  wicked 
city.  The  same  power  which  before  had  divided  the 
waters,  and  which  afterwards  broke  in  pieces  the  Phi- 
listine idols,  demolishes  the  forts  of  Jericho.  Those 
spiritual  wickednesses  which  to  nature  are  invincible, 
are  overthrown  by  the  word  of  God.  Alas,  the  ark  of 
the  covenant  hath  been  long  amongst  us — why  are  not 
our  corruptions  done  aw^ay  1  Why  do  we  not  follow  our 
Savior  \  Why  do  not  our  hearts  attend  on  him  with  all 
their  fervency  ? 

When  the  trumpets  sounded  long  on  the  seventh  day, 
and  when  their  alarm  was  joined  by  the  shouts  of  the 
Israelites,  the  walls  of  Jericho  fell  down  at  once.  The 
Jieavens  had  rung  with  the  shout  of  the  people — the 
earth  shakes  at  the  fall  of  these  mighty  ruins— a  solemn, 
pleasing  kind  of  horror  is  on  the  Israelites — despair 
nnd  death  is  in  the  hearts  and  countenances  of  their 
enemies.  They  had  now  neither  means  nor  will  to  re- 
fiist — astonishment  contributes  to  dispatch  them  no  less 
than  the  sword  of  Israel.  God  has  all  the  praise,  his 
fservants  all  the  victory.  Had  one  warrior  assailed  tlie 
walls,  the  glory  of  the  Lord  of  hosts  had  been  diminish- 


THE    G1BE0N1TE3.  89 

ed.  But  here  it  was  his  own  act ;  his  marvellous  act  ; 
he  will  not  suffer  his  honor  to  be  given  to  another. 
They  gat  not  the  land  in  possession  by  their  own  sword, 
neither  was  it  their  own  arm  that  helped  them  ;  but  thy 
right  hand  and  thine  arm,  and  the  light  of  thy  counte- 
nance, because  thou  hadst  a  favor  unto  them,  0  God ! 
In  the  moment  of  victory  Joshua  remembers  the  faith 
of  Rahab.  They  who  received  life  from  her,  now  return 
it  to  her  and  to  her  family.  They  send  news  of  peace 
and  deliverance  to  that  house,  where  they  found  their 
own  security  in  the  time  of  danger.  Holy  and  charita- 
ble actions  will  sooner  or  later  have  their  recompense. 
Now  Rahab  finds  what  it  is  to  believe  in  God  j  while 
out  of  an  impure  and  idolatrous  city  she  is  incorporated 
into  his  holy  church,  and  made  the  mother  of  a  royal 
and  sacred  posterity. 


19.— THE  GIBEONITES. 

The  news  of  Israel's  early  victories  had  flown  over 
the  mountains  and  valleys  of  Canaan ;  and  yet  the 
kings  and  people  prepare  for  resistance,  and  rush  mndly 
against  that  judgment  which  their  own  enormities  had 
drawn  upon  their  heads. 

Only  the  Gibeonites  are  wiser  than  their  companions, 
and  resolve  to  yield  and  live.  Their  intelligence  was 
not  different  from  that  of  others  ;  but,  as  Rahab  saved 
her  family  in  the  midst  of  Jericho,  so  these  four  cities 
preserved  themselves  in  the  midst  of  Canaan,  because 
they  believed  in  the  power  of  God.  Had  they  joined 
the  forces  of  their  neighbors  they  would  have  perished 


90  hall's  scripture  history. 

with  them.  How  wise  is  that  admonition  which  enjoins 
us  not  to  follow  a  muhitude  in  evil — which  calls  us  to 
unity  with  the  church  of  God,  that  we  may  escape  the 
condemnation  of  the  world  !  The  neiorhborino^  cities 
mocked  at  this  procedure  of  the  Gibeonites,  and  scorn- 
ed to  ask  for  safety  at  the  hands  of  Israel.  But  in  the 
event,  the  bodies  of  these  proud  heathens  lay  strewed 
on  the  earth,  while  the  others  survived  and  were  admit- 
ted into  covenant  with  the  people  of  God. 

Had  they  staid  till  Israel  was  encamped  before  their 
cities,  their  submission  would  have  been  fruitless  :  now 
they  make  a  timely  peace,  and  are  preserved.  There 
is  no  wisdom  in  staying  till  judgment  comes  home  to 
us.  To  solicit  God  early  in  the  time  of  danger,  is  the 
best  security  against  destruction. 

I  commend  their  sagacity  in  seeking  peace  ;  but  their 
falsehood  in  the  manner  of  seeking  it  is  as  blameable 
as  the  credulity  of  Israel — as  the  rashness  which  in- 
duced them  to  complete  the  covenant  without  asking 
advice  of  God. 

The  sentence  of  death  was  gone  out  against  all  the 
inhabitants  of  Canaan.  Yet  the  Gibeonites  make  peace 
with  Israel  and  live.  Amidst  the  general  denunciations 
of  Divine  vengeance  no  man  must  despair  of  mercy. 
If  we  are  convinced  of  the  danger  attendant  on  our  sin, 
we  shall  cast  ourselves  at  the  feet  of  our  Redeemer,  (in 
humble  prayer  that  the  God  of  hope  would  fill  us  with 
all  JDy  and  peace  in  believing,  that  we  may  abound  in 
hope  through  the  power  of  the  H0I3'  Ghost)  and  we 
shall  not  be  condemned  with  the  world. 

Still  the  fraud  of  these  Gibeonites  admits  of  no  ex- 
cuse or  apology.  What  a  plausible  tale  did  they  feign 
of  the  remoteness  of  their  country,  the  reasons  for  their 
journey,  the  consultation  of  theii"  elders !  How  artfully 
did  they  suppress  their  knowledge  of  more  recent 
events,  the  miraculous  passage  over  Jordan,  the  capture 


THE    GIBEONITES.  91 

of  Jericho  and  Ai,  while  they  studiously  recapitulated 
the  former  demonstrations  of  Almighty  power!  The 
case  seemed  self-evident  j  and  the  children  of  Israel 
thought  it  needless  to  have  recourse  to  the  oracle 
of  God. 

And  now,  within  three  days,  they  find  out  the  deceit 
of  these  new  allies,  and  their  near  neighborhood.  Joshua 
well  knew  the  indissoluble  nature  of  the  covenant  into 
which  he  had,  however  rashly,  entered.  He  will  not 
make  the  treachery  of  these  heathens  a  pretext  for  his 
own.  When  he  approaches  the  cities  of  Gibeon,  he 
do€s  not  tell  the  ambassadors,  "  Ye  came  from  a  far 
country — these  cities  are  near.  This  therefore  is  not 
the  people  whom  we  are  engaged  to  protect.  We  will 
destroy  these  abodes  of  the  Canaanites,  and  when  we 
come  to  your  distant  confines  the  sword  shall  rest  in 
its  scabbard !"  He  feels  the  solemnity  of  his  engage- 
ments.   He  dares  not  violate  the  oath  of  the  Lord. 

The  sequel  shows  both  the  wisdom  and  the  piety  of 
Joshua.  Three  hundred  years  afterwards,  Saul,  forget- 
ting or  despising  the  vow  of  his  ancestors,  in  the  trans- 
ports of  misguided  zeal,  sought  to  exterminate  the  de- 
scendants of  these  Gibeonites.  But  the  God  of  truth 
proved  himself  the  friend  and  patron  of  oppressed  inno- 
cence ;  when  he  made  inquisition  for  blood,  he  remem- 
bered this  injured  people,  and  famine  desolated  the  land 
which  had  been  polluted  by  perjury  and  murder. 

Joshua  and  the  princes  had  promised  them  life — they 
promised  them  not  liberty — no  covenant  was  made 
against  their  servitude.  It  was  justice  on  the  part  oi 
Israel  to  make  them  sensible  of  their  past  treachery. 
How  dear  is  life  to  our  nature  when  we  see  men  content 
to  purchase  it  at  such  a  rate!  The  Gibeonites  submit  to 
their  doom  without  reluctance,  and  think  themselvos 
fortunate  in  becoming  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of 
water  to  the  congregation  of  Israel. 


92  hall's  scaiPTURjS"  history. 

But  this  is  not  the  end  of  their  calamity  and  danger. 
Envy,  jealousy  and  fear  combine  to  raise  up  the  kings 
of  the  Amorites  against  them.  Neither  evil  men  or  evil 
spirits  can  behold  without  regret  the  flourishing  state 
of  the  church.  There  is  joy  in  heaven  over  one  sinner 
that  repenteth;  angels  welcome  the  convert  with  songs  ; 
hell  is  full  of  uproar  and  fury  at  his  conversion. 

The  Gibeonites,  when  they  secured  the  friendship  of 
Joshua,  were  not  aware  that  they  should  so  soon  be 
compelled  to  have  recourse  to  that  friendship.  Now 
they  experience  the  efficacy  of  that  covenant  which  en- 
titled them  to  protection  from  Israel.  Whither  should 
we  fly  but  to  our  great  Deliverer  when  the  powers  of 
darkness  are  in  league  against  us  1  If  we  trust  to  our 
own  means  of  resistance  we  cannot  stand — if  we  rely 
on  his  omnipotence  we  cannot  fall. 

The  noble  disposition  of  Joshua  will  not  let  him  for- 
sake his  new  vassals.  Though  he  never  promised  to 
hazard  his  life  for  theirs,  yet  he  scorns  to  avail  himself 
of  such  a  wretched  subterfuge — he  knows  no  difference 
between  killing  them  with  his  own  sword  and  the  sword 
of  an  Amorite.  Their  confidence  in  him  is  argument 
enough  to  draw  him  into  the  field.  0  Savior,  if  we  send 
our  prayers  to  thee  in  the  day  of  our  trouble,  thy  mercy 
will  hasten  to  our  relief — never  was  any  soul  disap- 
pointed which  put  its  trust  in  thee.  Let  our  faith  be 
but  steadfast,  it  shall  not  fail  of  success. 

A  benefit  deferred  proves  unprofitable.  Joshua  march- 
es all  night  and  fights  all  day  for  the  Gibeonites.  If 
Israel  had  been  endangered  he  could  have  done  no 
more.  The  noblest  of  all  victories  is  that  which  over- 
comes evil  with  good,  and  buries  the  sense  of  injuries 
in  a  generous  pardon, 

Joshua  fights,  but  God  discomfits  the  Amorites.  He 
Blays  them,  not  only  with  the  sword  of  his  warriors,  but 
with  mighty  hailstones,   the   messengers  of  his  wrath. 


TIIR    GIBEONITES.  93 

x\'o  wonder  these  five  kings  are  overwhelmed  with  hor- 
ror and  despair  as  they  fly.  Behind  them  is  the  army  of 
Israel,  whose  force  they  are  unable  to  resist — above 
them  is  the  dreadful  artillery  of  heaven,  from  whose  de- 
structive power  they  are  utterly  unable  to  escape.  It  is 
a  fearful  thing  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  living  God. 
He  shall  pour  down  rain  upon  the  sinners,  storm  and 
tempest;  this  shall  be  the  portion  of  their  cup. 

Nor  i%  this  the  only  miracle  displayed  on  the  memo- 
rable day  of  Israel's  victory.  The  great  luminaries  of 
heaven  must  stay  their  course,  as  if  they  were  called  on 
to  witness  and  to  wonder  at  the  overthrow  of  the  ene- 
mies of  God.  That  He,  who  gave  them  either  real  or 
apparent  motion,  should  by  his  almighty  power  arrest 
their  progress,  would  of  itself  excite  astonishment — but 
how  are  we  amazed  at  that  faith  by  which  a  mortal 
speaks  to  the  sun  and  moon,  and  in  the  name  of  their 
common  Lord  enjoins  their  obedience  !  It  was  the 
glory  of  God  which  his  zealous  champion  studied  to 
promote.  That  all  nations  might  acknowledge  him  to 
be  supreme  both  in  heaven  and  earth,  Joshua  prays, 
that  He,  who  at  this  moment  was  punishing  an  idola- 
trous people,  would  show  his  sovereignty  over  the 
very  gods  whom  they  worshipped  with  impious  rites 
under  many  horrid  symbols.  Great  was  the  faith  that 
obtained  this  miracle — great  vras  the  powder  that  ef- 
fected it.  What  is  there  which  God  cannot  do  1  And 
what  can  God  do  which  faith  cannot   do  % 

O  sing  unto  the  Lord  a  new  song,  for  he  hath  done 
wonderful  things — Avith  his  ov/n  right  hand  and  with  his 
holy  arm  hath  he  gotten  himself  the  victory.  The  Lord 
declareth  his  salvation — his  righteousness  hath  he  open- 
ly showed  in  the  sight  of  the  heathen.  He  hath  remem- 
bered his  mercy  and  truth  toward  the  house  of  Israel — 
and  all  the  ends  of  the  world  have  seen  the  salvation  of 
our  God. 


94  hall's  scripture  history. 

20.--G  I  D  E  0  N  . 

After  the  deatli  of  Joshua,  and  the  establishment  of 
Israel  in  the  land  of  Canaan,  we  behold  a  stiffnecked 
and  froward  people,  elated  with  peace  and  liberty,  and 
forgetting  Him  to  whom  they  owed  all  the  blessings 
shed  on  them  in  such  profusion.  We  behold  a  con- 
tinued circle  of  sins,  judgments,  contrition,  deliverance, 
and  renewed  transgression.  Conversation  with  idolaters 
tempts  them  to  sin — their  sin  brings  down  judgments 
from  above — judgments  move  them  to  repentance — on 
their  repentance  they  are  delivered — on  their  deliver- 
ance they  return  to  their  sin.  The  ministry  of  0th- 
niel  rescued  them  from  the  Mesopotamians  ;  of  Ehud, 
from  the  Moabitesj  of  Shamgar,  from  the  Philistines; 
of  Barak,  from  the  tyrant  of  Canaan.  But  again  the 
people  offend  ;  again  they  are  punished  ;  the  bondage  of 
Israel  under  Jabin  was  freedom  in  comparison  with  the 
yoke  of  the  Midianites-  They  who  had  rejected  the 
protection  of  God  are  compelled  to  seek  to  the  moun- 
tains for  shelter — they,  who  had  transgressed  in  the 
face  of  the  sun,  hide  their  sins  and  their  sorrows  in 
dens  and  caves  of  the  earth. 

But  the  mercy  of  God  is  greater  than  the  infirmity 
of  his  creatures.  He  beheld  and  pitied  the  afflictions 
of  Israel,  he  sent  a  prophet  with  a  message  of  reproof, 
an  angel  with  a  message  of  deliverance.  While  Gideon 
in  fear  and  trembling  hastens  to  conceal  the  scanty 
produce  of  his  fields  from  the  Midianites,  the  great 
Angel  of  the  covenant  addresses  him,  ''  The  Lord  is 
with  thee,  thou  mighty  man  of  valor." 

While  this  heavenly  visitant,  this  lord  of  angels  was 
with  Gideon,  he  might  well  say,  ''  The  Lord  is  with 
thee."  From  Him  who  sent  the  Comforter,  did  ever 
proceed  the  true  comfort  of  his  church.    He  knew  how 


GIDEON.    *  95 

to  lay  a  sure  ground  of  consolation.  The  only  remedy 
of  sorrow  and  beginning  of  joy  is  the  presence  of  God. 
The  same  Angel  who  thus  spake  to  Gideon,  spake  in 
after  times  to  the  sorrowing  apostles,  '^Behold,  I  am 
with  you  always,  even  to  the  end  of  the  world." 

Gideon  knew  not  by  whom  he  was  thus  addressed  in 
the  language  of  encouragement.  The  word  of  the  Lord 
was  precious  in  those  days,  there  was  no  open  vision. 
The  promise  of  deliverance  by  his  means  to  Israel  found 
not  a  perfect  assent  while  uttered  by  an  unknown  mes- 
senger. Fain  would  he  believe,  but  fain  would  he  have 
sure  grounds  for  his  faith.  He  asks  a  sign  of  the  stran- 
ger, in  token  that  he  was  sent  from  God. 

Yet  the  very  hope  of  these  glad  tidings,  though  not 
ratified  as  yet  by  miraculous  attestation,  awakens  in 
Gideon  both  joy  and  thankfulness;  he  prepares  a  feast 
for  him  who  had  spoken  comfortably  to  Israel.  Gideon 
prepares  a  feast,  the  angel  makes  it  a  sacrifice.  He 
whose  meat  and  drink  it  was  to  do  his  Father's  will, 
touches  the  food  with  his  staff  (when  Gideon  imagined 
he  would  have  blessed  and  eaten)  and  suddenly  con- 
sumes it  with  fire.  While  the  son  of  Joash  saw  and 
wondered  at  the  spiritual  act,  he  lost  sight  of  the  agent. 

Now  Gideon  builds  an  altar  to  God,  and  becomes 
familiarized  to  visions  and  revelations  from  above.  His 
first  commission  is  to  destroy  the  idol  of  the  Midian- 
ites,  next,  the  Midianites  themselves.  While  the  altar 
and  grove  of  Baal  stood  on  the  hill  of  Ophrah  in  vain 
should  Israel  hope  to  prevail.  If  we  would  be  delivered 
from  the  judgments  of  God  we  must  examine  what 
false  ofi^erings  and  groves  we  have  in  our  hearts. 
These  must  all  be  demolished.  The  true  God  will  have 
no  society  with  idols  himself^  nor  allow  it  to  us. 
*'  Cleanse  your  hands,  ye  sinners,  and  purify  your 
hearts,  ye  double-minded!"  He  first  abolishes  the  mo- 
numents  of    superstition,   and    then   enjoins   his   own 


96  hall's  scripture  history. 

reasonable  service.    The  wood  of  Baal's  grove  is  made 
use  of  to  burn  a  sacrifice  unto  the  true  Jehovah. 

There  needs  no  further  declaration  of  war.  The  sons 
of  Midian  and  Amalek  make  haste  to  avenge  the  indigni- 
ty offered  to  their  idol — Gideon  blows  the  trumpet,  and 
the  people  are  gathered  after  him.  Now,  when  he  sees 
himself  on  the  brink  of  danger,  he  has  recourse  to 
mightier  aid  j  and  not  daring  to  trust  his  thousands  of 
Israel,  he  flies  to  God  for  a  further  assurance  of  victory. 

The  refuge  was  good — the  manner  of  seeking  it  in- 
dicates distrust.  It  is  easy  to  be  valiant  when  perils 
are  far  distant ;  but  when  they  are  near,  and  great,  and 
imminent,  then  not  to  be  dismayed  is  difficult  and  glo- 
rious. Had  God  made  the  proclamation  now,  which 
was  afterwards  made  by  Gideon,  "  Let  the  timorous  de- 
part," the  people  of  Israel  had  perhaps  been  deprived 
of  their  leader. 

How  willing  is  the  Almighty  to  support  and  strength- 
en our  weakness  !  Repeated  miracles  are  called  for  by 
his  creature,  and  are  wrought  by  the  Creator,  to  show 
the  son  of  Joash,  that  He  who  was  on  his  side  was  migh- 
tier than  all  the  power  of  the  enemy.  The  dews  of 
heaven  obey  his  mandate,  and  at  his  word  they  fall,  or 
are  withholden.  Now  we  see  Gideon  armed  with  faith 
and  resolution — confident  of  success — at  the  head  of 
his  troops — in  the  face  of  the  Midianitcs. 

But  while  their  adversaries  cover  the  valley  like  lo- 
custs, and  the  Israelites  think  themselves  too  few,  God 
says,  "They  are  too  manyy  He  is  willing  to  give  de- 
liverance to  his  people,  but  the  honor  of  the  deliver- 
ance he  keeps  to  himself,  and  will  diminish  the  means, 
that  he  may  have  the  full  measure  of  glory.  0  God, 
thou  art  not  benefited  by  our  best  services,  whose  in- 
finite greatness  can  receive  no  addition  from  thy  crea 
tures.  It  is  for  our  good  thou  wouldst  be  magnified 
by  us.    Teach  us  how  to  receive  the  blessings  of  thy 


GIDEON.  97 

gracious  protection,  and  let  both  our  lips  and  our  lives 
show  forth  thy  praise  ! 

Gideon^s  army  must  be  lessened.  God  will  neither 
be  glorified  by  dastards  nor  avail  himself  of  any  but 
able  champions.  O  thou  of  little  faith,  do  the  frowns  or 
the  laughter  of  men  scare  thee  from  thy  God  1  Doth 
the  hazard  of  a  little  land  or  silver  disquiet  thee  %  Art 
thou  afraid  of  the  Midianites  in  the  valley  1  Away  then, 
away  to  the  world  ;  thou  art  not  fit  for  the  conquering 
band  of  Christ.  If  thou  canst  not  resolve  to  follow  him 
through  infamy,  prisons,  racks,  tortures,  death  itself,  de- 
part to  thine  house,  and  Save  thy  life  to  thy  destruction. 

And  do  not  the  Israelites  complain  of  this  indignity  1 
Do  not  they  with  one  voice  pronounce  themselves  fear- 
less 1  Do  not  they  aver  that  tliose  hearts  which  brought 
them  after  their  General  cannot  endure  the  thought  of 
retiring  1  Alas !  who  can  trust  the  faces  of  men,  that 
sees  in  the  army  of  Israel  two  and  twenty  thousand 
cowards  1  How  many  make  a  glorious  show  in  the 
church,  who,  when  they  see  danger  of  persecution, 
shrink  from  the  standard  of  God  1  Hope  of  safety,  ex- 
ample of  neighbors,  desire  of  praise,  fear  of  censure, 
the  operation  of  laws,  the  society  of  friends,  draw  many 
into  the  field,  who  (when  they  see  the  adversary)  re- 
pent of  the  conditions,  and,  if  they  may  escape,  are 
gone  early  from  Mount  Gilead.  They  deal  deceitfully 
as  a  brook,  and  as  the  stream  of  brooks  they  pass  away. 
What  time  they  wax  warm  they  vanish — when  it  is  hot 
they  are  consumed  out  of  their  place. 

Yet  still  God  complains  of  the  number  of  his  army, 
and  on  a  second  trial  dismisses  nine  thousand  seven 
hundred  more.  The  select  band  of  his  appointment 
leaves  not  one  Israelite  to  a  thousand  of  the  enemies — 
now  is  the  season  for  God  to  join  battle.  Three  hun- 
dred men  approach  an  innumerable  host,  not  with  sword 
or  spear,  but  with  pitchers,  and  lights,  and  trumpets. 

Script.  Hist.  5 


98  hall's  scripture  history. 

The  breaking-  of  these  pitchers  shall  dash  in  pieces  the 
pride  of  Amalek.  The  kindling  of  these  lights  shall 
extinguish  the  light  of  Midian.  The  trumpets  shall 
sound  an  alarm  of  death  to  the  armies  of  the  aliens. 
Who  shall  be  able  to  stand  against  the  power  of  Godi 
Where  shall  the  ungodly  and  the  sinner  appear,  when 
the  world  shall  be  in  flame,  the  heavens  shall  pass  away 
with  a  great  noise,  and  the  trumpet  of  the  archangel 
shall  call  them  to  present  judgment  1 

Any  of  the  weakest  Hebrews  might  have  broken  an 
empty  vessel  of  earth — have  carried  a  light — have 
sounded  a  trumpet — have  smitten  a  flying  adversary. 
But  God  will  not  employ  an  unworthy  agent — he  will 
not  allow  so  much  as  a  cowardly  torch-bearer. 

Now  the  Israelites  pursue,  overtake,  destroy  those 
tyrants  whom  once  they  dared  not  look  in  the  face. 
Flight  gives  advantage  to  the  feeblest  adversary — oppo- 
sition foils  the  greatest.  If  we  yield  to  a  temptation, 
our  spiritual  enemies  will  trample  us  in  the  dust.  Let 
us  but  resist,  and  they  will  flee — let  us  but  stand  still, 
and  we  shall  see  the  salvation  of  God. 


21.— MAN  0  AH. 

If  the  wife  of  Manoah  had  not  been  barren,  the  angel 
had  not  been  sent  to  her.  Afllictions  have  this  advan- 
tacre,  that  they  bring  down  from  above  those  manifesta- 
tions of  Divine  mercy  Vvhich  are  unknown  to  the  pros- 
perous. The  sick  child  experiences  most  indulgence 
from  a  tender  parent.  God  addresses  his  best  comforts 
to  those  hearts  which  stand  most  in  need  of  his  support. 

The  Angel  of  God  first  tells  the  wife  of  Manoah  the 
cause  of  her  sorrow,  and  then  imparts  a  message  of 


MANOAU.  99 

joy.  "  Thou  art  barren."  All  our  afflictions  are  known 
to  Him,  whose  loving  correction  tends  only  to  our  final 
advantao^e.  The  suffering  christian  would  sink  under 
his  misfortunes,  if  he  were  not  persuaded  that  the  ej'C 
of  God  beheld  the  conflict  and  would  award  the  crown 
of  victory.  He  saith  to  one,  ''  Thou  art  sick  ;"  to  an- 
other, ^' Thou  art  poor;"  to  another,  '^  Thou  art  de- 
famed ;"  to  another,  ''  Thou  art  oppressed."  The  all- 
seeing  Father  of  mankind  takes  notice  of  every  man^s 
condition,  no  less  than  if  he  sent  his  angel  to  tell  us  so. 
His  knowledge  and  his  rn^ercy  are  our  sure  resources  in 
the  time  of  our  sufferings.  O  God,  thou  knowest  both 
the  miseries  we  feel,  and  those  which  have  been  averted 
from  us  by  thy  gracious  interference ! 

Comfort  comes  unseasonably  to  that  heart  which  is 
not  apprehensive  of  its  own  sorrow.  The  angel  does 
not  vpbraid  the  wife  of  Manoah  with  her  affliction,  but, 
while  he  names  the  cause,  declares  the  remedy.  We 
must  first  know  our  evils  before  we  can  be  delivered 
from  them.  If  we  cannot  endure  the  mention  of  our 
infirmities  w^e  shall  look  in  vain  for  their  amendment. 
*'Thou  art  barren,  but  thou  shalt  bear  a  son." 

The  mother  must  first  be  a  Nazarite,  that  her  child 
may  be  so.  The  worldling  knows  no  restraint,  no  mode- 
ration ;  the  christian  must  keep  under  his  body  and 
bring  it  into  subjection.  The  consecration  of  God  is 
upon  his  head — his  heart  is  the  temple  of  the  Holy 
Ghost — the  base  and  sordid  gratifications  of  the  world 
must  be  rejected  with  abhorrence.  '^  If  thou  return  to 
the  Almighty,  put  iniquity  from  thee." 

The  wife  of  Manoah  hides  not  the  glad  tidings  in  her 
own  bosom.  She  imparts  them  to  her  husband,  whose 
piety  directs  him  at  once  to  the  proper  means  by  which 
he  may  attain  a  more  certain  confirmation  of  his  hopes. 
He  does  not  send  messengers  from  place  to  place  in 
search  of  the  angel,  as  the  children  of  the  prophets  af- 


100  HALl'j>    SCRirTURE    HISTORr. 

ter wards  sought  Elijah — he  applies  at  once  to  the  God 
who  had  sent  him  j  he  knows  that  to  have  recourse  to 
heaven  is  the  most  sure  and  speedy  method  of  obtaining 
the  good  he  solicits.  "  0  my  Lord,  I  pray  thee,  let  that 
man  of  God  come  again!" 

Manoah  is  a  true  descendant  of  that  father  of  the 
faithful,  who  believed  in  God,  and  it  was  accounted  to 
him  for  righteousness.  He  saw  not  the  messenger — he 
heard  not  the  errand — he  examined  not  the  circumstan- 
ces J  yet  we  find  his  immediate  care  to  be,  how  that 
child  shall  be  ordered^  which  was  thus  foretold  j  and  his 
prayers  to  God  are  not  for  the  son,  which  as  yet  he  had 
not,  but  for  directions  as  to  his  education  when  he 
should  be.  The  father  of  John  Baptist  had  the  same 
message ;  and  asking  a  sign,  lost  that  voice  wherewith 
he  asked  it.  The  father  of  Samson  seeks  no  sign  for 
the  promise,  but  counsel  for  himself;  and  yet  that  angel 
spake  to  the  priest  Zacharias — this,  only  to  the  wife  of 
Manoah  ;  that,  in  the  temple,  like  a  glorious  spirit — this, 
in  the  field,  like  some  prophet  or  traveller.  Blessed  are 
they  who  have  not  seen  and  yet  have  believed.  True 
faith  considers  all  things  foretold  as  granted,  and  doubts 
not  of  their  completion  when  once  they  have  been 
promised. 

He  who  sent  his  heavenly  messenger  unasked,  will  not 
fail  to  send  him  again  upon  entreaty ;  those  blessed  spi- 
rits are  ready  both  to  obey  their  Maker  and  to  comfort 
his  children.  Never  was  any  man  repulsed  who  prayed 
for  direction  in  his  duties  to  God:  rather  shall  an  angel 
descend  from  heaven  to  instruct  us,  than  our  good  de- 
sires shall  be  frustrated. 

As  yet  Manoah  saw  nothing  which  denoted  his  guest 
to  be  more  than  human,  and  therefore  on  his  return  he 
offers  him  an  entertainment  denoting  at  once  hospitality 
and  gratitude.  No  man  shall  bring  him  good  news  from 
God  and  depart  unrecompensed.   How  beautiful  are  the 


MANOAH.  101 

feet  of  them  who  bring  glad  tidings  of  eternal  salvation, 
when  he  who  announces  distant  temporal  mercies  is  thus 
made  welcome ! 

It  is  the  office  of  good  angels  to  incite  us  to  piety. 
*'If  thou  wilt  offer  a  sacrifice,  offer  it  unto  the  Lord." 
We  can  never  gratify  the  inhabitants  of  heaven  so  much 
as  by  our  devotions  to  the  God  of  lieaven.  Why  do  we 
not  learn  this  lesson  of  them  w^hom  we  propose  to  our- 
selves as  patterns  of  perfect  obedience  1  Hereafter  we 
shall  be  like  angels  in  Our  condition  j  why  are  we  not  so 
now  in  disposition  of  mind  1  If  we  do  not  exhort  one 
another  to  acts  of  devotion  and  charity,  if  we  regard  a 
feast  more  than  a  sacrifice,  we  partake  not  of  the  na- 
ture of  angels. 

Manoah,  while  he  addresses  an  oblation  to  God,  will 
not  neglect  his  messenger.  He  anxiously  desires  to 
know  the  name  of  his  guest,  that  he  may  remember  it 
with  honor  and  gratitude.  True  piety,  while  it  magni- 
fies the  Author  of  all  blessings,  is  thankful  to  his  instru- 
ments;  and  deems  it  injustice  to  receive  good  tidings 
from  heaven,  and  at  the  same  time  to  disregard  those 
who  impart  them. 

The  angel  conceals  his  very  name  from  Manoah.  In 
some  cases  these  heavenly  messengers  reveal  themselves 
unasked  ;  here  entreaty  will  not  prevail.  The  father  of 
Samson  shall  conjecture  from  circumstances  (he  shall 
not  be  told  in  words)  that  One,  whose  name  only  is 
Jehovah,  thus  veiled  his  greatness  and  stood  before  him. 
''Why  askest  thou  my  name,  seeing  it  is  Wonderful]" 
The  secret  things  belong  to  God — the  things  which  are 
revealed,  to  us  and  our  children.  No  words  can  be  so 
sij^nificant  as  actions.  Those  of  the  an^el  tell  best  who 
he  was — he  did  wonderfully.  When  the  flame  of  the 
sacrifice  arose  towards  heaven  he  ascended  in  the  smoke 
of  it,  that  ]\Ianoah  might  see  to  whom  belonged  the  sa- 
crifice and  the  messenger  j  and  might  know  both  hoAv 


102  hall's    SCllIPTUEE    UISTORY. 

to  estimate  the  promise,  and  v.hence  to  expect  the  per- 
formance. 

Manoah  believed  before,  and  asked  for  no  sign ;  but 
that  he  might  behold  the  confirmation  of  his  hopes  and 
the  acceptance  of  his  act  of  duty,  the  Angel  of  God 
vouchsafed  to  carry  up  the  incense  of  his  prayers  to 
heaven.  To  him  that  hath  shall  be  given,  and  he  shall 
have  abundance.  Where  there  are  beginnings  of  faith, 
the  mercy  of  God  will  add  perfection. 

Yet  how  did  Manoah  and  his  wife  receive  this  mani- 
festation from  above  \  They  had  not  spirit  either  to 
gaze  at  the  departing  angel,  or  even  to  look  on  each 
other.  Instead  of  lifting  up  their  eyes  to  heaven,  they 
fall  upon  their  faces  to  the  ground — dazzled  and  over- 
powered with  that  which  should  have  comforted  them. 
What  a  proof  do  we  afford  of  human  infirmity,  when 
we  are  afflicted  with  the  causes  of  our  joyl — when  we 
conceive  death  in  that  glorious  vision  wherein  our  life 
and  happiness  consist  1  If  such  are  the  terrors  of  the 
saints  of  God,  what  will  befall  his  enemies  when,  in 
the  great  day,  they  shall  be  summoned  to  his  glorious 
tribunal  1 

The  wife  of  Manoah  first  recovers  her  better  judg- 
ment, and  speaks  peace  and  comfort  to  her  husband. 
The  argument  is  incontrovertible.  ''  If  the  Lord  were 
pleased  to  kill  us,  he  would  not  have  received  a  burnt- 
offering  at  our  hands."  God  will  not  accept  gifts  where 
he  intends  punishment  and  professes  hatred.  The  sacri- 
fice of  the  wicked  is  an  abomination  to  the  Lord.  If  our 
oblation  is  not  rejected,  we  may  rely  on  his  favor  and 
protection.  ''  If  I  incline  unto  wickedness  in  mine  heart, 
the  Lord  will  not  hear  me — but  God  hafh  heard  me,  and 
considered  the  voice  of  my  prayer.  Blessed  be  God, 
who  hath  not  cast  out  my  prayer,  nor  turned  his  mercy 
from  me !" 


SAMSON.  103 


22.  — SAMSON. 

Of  all  the  (lellverers  of  Israel,  none  was  so  mii^lity, 
or  so  weak,  as  Samson.  God,  to  show  the  incfficacy  of 
human  strength  and  human  wisdom,  permitted  this  his 
servant,  as  w^ell  as  the  royal  Solomon,  to  be  brought  low 
under  the  tyranny  of  sin  j  that  he  who  glorieth  should 
glory  in  the  Lord — that  he  who  thinks  his  feet  secure 
should  take  heed  lest  he  fall. 

When  the  persuasions  (rather  than  the  arguments)  of 
Samson  had  obtained  a  reluctant  consent  from  his  pa- 
rents to  an  unhallowed  alliance,  behold,  in  his  way  to 
Timnath  a  young  lion,  fierce,  wild,  hungry,  rushed  upon 
him:  he  had  no  weapon  but  his  hand,  no  earthly  refuge 
but  his  strength.  God  initiates  his  champions  by  pre- 
vious encounters — Samson  and  David  first  fight  with 
lions,  then  with  Philistines;  as  He  whom  they  prefi- 
gured engaged  and  vanquished  the  roaring  lion  in  the 
wilderness  before  he  entered  on  his  public  ministry. 
God  never  gives  strength  but  he  employs  it.  Persecu- 
tion, shame,  poverty,  slander  assail  the  christian  in  the 
outset  of  his  course.  It  is  a  pledge  of  our  future  victo- 
ries if  we  can  say,  ''My  soul  hath  been  among  lions.'* 
And  do  we  think  that  God  is  angry,  because  we  are 
called  to  these  conflicts'!  Shall  we  repine  at  our  own 
glory  1  Shall  we  expect  the  crown  without  the  struggle  \ 
Can  we  be  triumphant  without  resistance! 

The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  came  upon  Samson.  The  ra- 
venous beast  advances,  rejoicing  in  his  prey,  his  eyes 
sparkling  with  fury,  and  breathing  death  from  his  nos- 
trils :  he  is  rent  as  if  he  had  been  a  kid — the  destroyer 
is  destroyed  by  an  unarmed  adversary.  If  God  be  for 
ws,  who  can  be  against  us  1  It  is  the  right  hand  of  the 
Lord  which  bringeth  mighty  things  to  pass. 

The  brave  and  modest  Samson  boasts  not  of  this  n-reat 


lO^  eall's  scripture  history. 

exploit.  True  courage  and  true  virtue  avoid  ostenta- 
tion. But  who  can  sufficiently  adore  the  goodness  of 
God,  by  whom  terror  is  changed  into  pleasure,  and  the 
greatest  evils  are  made  beneficial  ]  Through  his  al- 
mighty power  the  curse  itself  is  turned  into  a  blessing. 
The  bitterness  of  death  is  exchanged  into  the  sweetness 
of  honey. 

Samson  proceeds  on  his  journey — the  marriage  is 
concluded  j  and  he  whom  the  lion  could  not  conquer  is 
overcome  with  the  tears  of  a  perfidious  woman.  "Be 
ye  not  unequally  yoked  with  unbelievers,"  is  a  wise  and 
necessary  caution.  Favor  is  deceitful — riches  are  pre- 
carious— beauty  is  vain — but  a  woman  that  fears  the 
Lord  shall  be  praised.  Wo  be  to  him  who  is  united  with 
a  Philistine  !  The  betrayed  and  injured  Samson  revenges 
his  own  cause,  and  the  cause  of  heaven,  on  his  tyran- 
nous oppressors.  He  knew  that  God  had  raised  him  to 
be  a  scourge  to  the  Philistines ;  when  the  nuptial-feast 
terminated  in  slaughter,  he  was  well  aware  that  he 
fought  the  battles  of  the  Almighty.  Faith,  courage,  and 
the  Divine  assistance  in  a  sore  conflict  gave  him  the 
victory. 

The  Israelites  were  slaves,  and  the  Philistines  their 
masters;  yet  the  hand  of  God,  which  urged  Samson  to 
revenge,  withholds  the  rage  of  these  oppressors.  In- 
stead of  requiting  the  death  of  their  countrymen  on  the 
captive  Israel,  the  Philistines  demand  only  satisfaction 
from  the  person  v.'^ho  had  caused  it. 

Samson  had  drawn  the  sword  for  the  sake  of  his  coun- 
try, as  well  as  to  avenge  his  private  injuries;  but  now 
ihe  men  of  Judah  conspire  with  the  Philistines  to  de- 
stroy him,  and  (fear  prevailing  over  gratitude)  are  at 
once  allies  with  their  tyrants  and  traitors  to  their  friend. 
He  who  has  not  experienced  perils  from  false  and  un- 
grateful brethren,  has  not  knowTi  the  extreme  of  danger 
or  of  sorrow. 


SAMSON.  105 

The  men  of  Judah  approach  armed  to  the  place  of 
Samson's  retreat.  For  a  moment,  perhaps,  he  expected, 
from  them  assistance  and  support.  Already  he  seemed 
to  hear  them  saying,  "  We  abhor  the  usurpation  and  ty- 
ranny of  the  Philistines — thou  hast  happily  begun  to 
shake  off  their  yoke,  and  we  are  come  to  second  thee 
with  our  best  services — the  valor  of  such  a  general 
makes  our  hearts  beat  high  for  conquest — under  thy  guid- 
ance we  shall  be  honored,  either  in  death  or  liberty." 
But  who  shall  express  the  indignation  of  this  champion 
of  Israel,  when  he  hears  his  kinsmen  own  themselves 
the  abettors  of  barbarity  and  oppression  ]  when  they  un- 
blushingly  require  him  to  yield  himself  into  their  hands, 
that  they  might  deliver  him  bound  to  the  Philistines ! 

Samson  might  have  attacked  these  thousands  of  Ju- 
dah with  as  much  advantage  as  he  did  the  uncircum- 
cised;  but  the  blood  of  his  countrymen  was  precious 
in  his  sight.  With  an  acquiescence  more  noble  than  his 
former  victories,  he  meekly  offers  his  hands  to  their 
cords,  that  he  might  have  the  honor  of  a  glorious  deliv- 
erance. Thou,  our  better  Nazarite,  mightst  have  called 
on  thy  Father  in  the  hour  of  thy  betraying,  and  twelve 
legions  of  angels  would  have  descended  to  thy  rescue. 
But  thou  wouldst  be  bound  that  thou  mightst  triumph, 
and  that  we  might  learn  of  thee  the  instructive  lesson, 
"  that  if  we  are  not  as  ready  to  endure  evil  as  to  do 
good,  we  are  not  fit  for  the  consecration  of  God." 

With  what  triumph  do  the  Philistines  receive  their 
illustrious  captive  !  How  ready  are  they  to  say,  "  Aha, 
so  would  we  have  it !"  But  the  event  soon  turns  their 
false  joy  into  real  sorrow.  Rejoice  not  against  me,  O 
mine  enemy,  when  I  fall,  I  shall  arise.  The  Spirit  of  the 
Lord  came  upon  Samson — his  bonds  are  as  flax  burned 
with  fire.  The  countenance  of  his  adversaries  is  changed, 
and  their  shouts  are  turned  into  shrieks;  while,  like  the 
young  lion  whom  he  encountered,  he  flies  upon  his  ene- 

5* 


103  hall's  scRirrURE  history. 

mies,  and  at  the  first  onset  sends  a  thousand  Philistines^ 
to  their  graves.  Thus  didst  thou,  0  blessed  Savior, 
when  thou  wert  bound  with  the  cords  of  death,  rouse 
thyself  to  victory  and  glory  ;  thus  didst  thou  vanquish 
all  opposition,  and  lead  captivity  captive.  Thus  do  thy 
saints,  when  they  seem  most  forsaken,  find  thy  Spirit 
mighty  to  their  deliverance.  Through  God  shall  they 
do  great  acts,  for  it  is  he  that  shall  tread  down  their 
enemies. 

And  now,  after  our  wonder  at  the  strength  of  Samson, 
how  shall  we,  without  grief  and  fear,  contemplate  his 
weakness?  U  thou.  Lord,  shouldst  be  extreme  to  mark 
what  is  amiss,  O  Lord,  who  shall  abide  it  ]  How  should 
we  suspect  ourselves,  and  maintain  an  incessant  conflict 
with  our  deceitful  lusts,  when  we  behold  the  judge  and 
deliverer  of  Israel  betrayed,  imprisoned,  bereaved  of  his 
sight,  derided  of  his  enemies,  forsaken  by  his  God  1 
And  all  this  because  repeated  warnings  failed  of  their 
success  ;  because  that  heart  which  trembled  not  at  thou- 
sands of  the  Philistines,  was  vanquished  and  enslaved 
by  the  treacherous  Delilah  ! 

Why  do  we  not  learn  zeal  of  these  idolaters'!  They 
thankfully  ascribe  to  their  Dagon  the  glory  of  Samson's 
captivity,  and  proclaim  a  solemn  festival  to  their  sense- 
less image.  "  Our  god  hath  delivered  our  enemy  into 
our  hands."  O  God,  whatever  may  be  the  means  of  our 
success,  thou  only  art  its  Author.  O  that  men  would 
praise  the  Lord  for  his  goodness,  and  declare  the  won- 
ders that  he  doeth  for  the  children  of  men ! 

Once  more  the  God  of  mercy  looks  on  the  repentant 
captive  ;  and,  while  scorn  is  added  to  his  misery,  con- 
sents that  his  sun  shall  set  in  radiance.  Even  in  the 
idolatrous  temple,  Samson,  a  laughing-stock  to  his  ene- 
mies, the  subject  of  their  triumphant  carousals,  yet 
sees  Him  who  is  invisible.  He  sues  to  that  God  whom 
the  heathen  reproached  and  blasphemed,  and  once  more 


NAOMI.  1 07 

gollclts  to  be  strengthened  with  might  by  the  Holy  Spi- 
rit. Well  knowing  that  his  insulting  enemies  meant  to 
crown  their  orgies  by  consigning  him  to  an  ignominious 
death,  he  collects  all  the  forces  of  his  soul  and  body  to 
prevent  and  to  punish  their  cruelty.  God  hears  the 
prayer  of  his  departing  servant.  Death  and  victory  go 
hand  in  hand.  He  feels  not  his  own  dissolution  while 
he  dies  with  the  Philistines.  By  the  sacrifice  of  a  life 
no  longer  serviceable  to  his  country,  he  finishes  his 
course  with  joy,  and  commends  his  exulting  spirit  into 
the  hands  of  the  God  of  Israel. 

Thou,  O  blessed  Savior,  didst  thus  conquer  in  dying, 
and  didst  triumph  when  the  malice  of  thine  inhuman 
enemies  had  nailed  thee  to  thy  cross.  Sin,  death,  hell 
had  never  been  otherwise  vanquished.  All  our  life,  our 
liberty,  our  glory  is  the  fruit  of  thy  passion.  "We 
therefore  pray  thee,  help  thy  servants,  whom  thou  hast 
redeemed  with  thy  precious  blood." 


23.  — NAOMI. 

Seldom  were  the  rebellious  Israelites  without  some 
Divine  visitation,  to  teach  them  repentance  and  humili- 
ty. The  country,  once  flowing  with  milk  and  honey,  is 
now  overspread  with  penury  ;  and  Bethlehem,  the  house 
of  bread,  becomes  a  house  of  famine.  A  fruitful  land 
God  maketh  barren,  for  the  wickedness  of  them  that 
dwell  therein. 

The  earth  is  the  Lord's,  and  it  is  lawful  for  man  to 
depart  from  one  region  to  another.  Elimelech  and  his 
family  remove,  by  reason  of  the  famine,  from  Judah  to 
Moab.    The  Creator  and  Governor  of  the  world  has  not 


108  hull's  scripture  histoky. 

confined  his  servants  to  one  spot,  at  the  hazard  of  want- 
ing the  necessaries  of  life.  Neither  pleasure,  nor  profit, 
nor  curiosity  takes  the  husband  of  Naomi  from  his  coun- 
try. JVecessity  compels  him  to  seek  in  Moab  the  suste- 
nance which  he  could  not  find  in  Israel. 

How  careful  was  Abraham  to  procure  a  wife  of  his 
own  kindred  for  Isaac !  How  solemnly  did  Isaac  enjoin 
the  son  of  his  love  not  to  enter  into  affinity  with  the 
daughters  of  Canaan!  The  sons  of  Elimelech  know  no 
such  restraints;  soon  do  they  form  unhallowed  alliances 
in  the  country  of  Moab.  But  the  hand  of  death  is  upon 
them,  and  in  the  early  bloom  of  youth  they  are  sum- 
moned to  the  grave  of  their  father.  Their  wives  are 
widows — their  mother  childless  and  helpless  among  in- 
fidels. The  miserable  INaomi  finds  herself  bereaved  of 
her  country,  her  husband,  her  children,  her  friends  ;  and 
in  solitude  and  wretchedness  is  constrained  to  struggle 
with  an  unpitying  world. 

Unto  the  godly  there  ariseth  light  in  the  darkness — 
from  these  shapeless  ruins  Jehovah  raises  comfort  to 
his  servant.  She  learns  that  God  hath  visited  his  peo- 
ple with  bread.  Elimelech,  alas  !  is  no  more — her  sons 
are  in  the  tomb — she  will  make  one  effort  to  re-visit  her 
kindred  and  the  land  of  her  nativity.  Behold  the  ad- 
vantages of  the  chastisement  of  God!  While  Naomi 
prospered  she  remained  contented  in  Moab — adversity 
recalls  her  to  her  country.  When  our  all-wise  Corrector 
deprives  us  of  earthly  blessings  we  betake  ourselves  to 
heaven  for  refuge — our  mind  is  directed  homeward. 

The  widow  of  Elimelech  had  lost  all  except  her  for- 
titude and  her  trust  in  God.  These  yet  remain,  and  sup- 
port her  in  the  stormy  night  of  affliction.  No  dangers 
appal  her,  no  difficulties  tempt  her  to  despair.  Neither 
her  age,  nor  her  sex,  nor  her  misfortunes  divert  her  from 
the  fixed  resolution  of  her  soul.  When  we  are  left  com- 
fortless in  the  midst  of  the  Moab  of  this  world,  if  we 


NAOMI.  109 

would  return  to  our  better  country,  we  must  press  for- 
ward to  the  mark  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of 
God  in  Christ  Jesus. 

Goodness,  even  among  infidels,  will  make  itself  friends. 
The  daughters-in-law  of  Naomi  are  ready  to  forsake 
their  kindred,  their  country,  their  parents  for  the  socie- 
ty of  one  whose  affinity  died  with  her  sons.  Earnestly 
do  they  plead  for  their  continuance  with  her,  and  they 
are  solicitous  to  participate  in  those  sorrows  they  are 
unable  to  remove. 

Naomi  is  not  insensible  of  the  benefits  which  such 
well-tried  affection  would  procure  her,  but  her  generous 
nature  rejects  comfort  itself  if  it  must  be  purchased  by 
the  distresses  of  others.  She  dissuades  them  from  ac- 
companj'ing  her  in  her  poverty,  with  as  much  earnest- 
ness as  if  their  presence  iiad  really  been  grievous  and 
burdensome. 

Orpah  listens  to  the  voice  of  disinterested  love,  and 
returns  from  a  toilsome  journey,  to  rest — from  stran- 
gers, to  her  kindred — from  despair,  to  contentment.  A 
little  entreaty  will  prevail  on  human  nature  to  consult 
its  own  ease  and  convenience.  None  but  a  regenerate 
heart  chooses  rather  to  suffer  adversity  with  the  people 
of  God,  than  to  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  sin  for  a  season. 

The  one  sister  takes  an  unwilling  farewell,  and  re- 
turns in  tears  to  her  native  home.  The  other  knew  how 
to  estimate  the  value  of  Naomi.  In  comparison  with 
her  society  she  held  in  contempt  whatever  allurements 
could  be  found  in  Moab.  '' Entreat  me  not  to  depart — 
whither  thou  ofoest  I  will  2^0 — where  thou  dwellest  I 
will  dwell — thy  people  shall  be  my  people — thy  God  my 
God — where  thou  diest  I  will  die,  and  there  will  I  be 
buried."  Adversity  is  the  true  furnace  of  friendship. 
If  love  will  not  abide  this  fire  it  is  counterfeit.  Even  in 
voin  do  we  profess  our  faith  in  God  himself,  if  we  are 
not  ready  to  suffer  for  him. 


no  II.iLL's    SCRIPTUHE    HISTORY. 

"  Behold,  thy  sister  is  gone  back  to  her  people,  and 
to  her  gods — return  thou  after  her."  Beware,  0  chris- 
tian, of  such  suggestions  as  these  in  thy  spiritual  jour- 
ney !  They  have  prevailed  more  with  the  world  than 
all  the  powers  of  reason  and  argument.  We  think  that 
either  safe  or  pardonable  for  w^hich  we  have  a  prece- 
dent. How  many  are  undone  because  they  follow  a  mul- 
titude to  do  evil,  and  have  not  courage  to  think  and  act 
for  themselves!  "Have  any  of  the  rvlers  or  Pharisees 
believed  V  The  mind  can  never  be  steady  till  it  is  fixed 
on  the  firmest  ground  of  assurance — till  it  can  itself  lead 
the  way  toward  heaven — till  it  can  say  with  Joshua, 
(whatsoever  become  of  the  world,)  '' 1  and  my  house 
will  serve  the  Lord." 

Nothing  can  dissuade  the  widow  of  Mahlon  from  ac- 
complishing the  purpose  of  her  heart.  She  arrives  at 
Bethlehem,  and  without  a  sigh,  without  a  murmur,  par- 
takes of  the  sorrows  of  that  dear  and  honored  friend, 
now  no  longer  Naomi,  but  IMarah,  one  experienced  in 
sorrows — dead  to  all  pleasures — alive  only  to  bitterness. 

Elimeleeh  fled  to  Moab  to  avoid  the  famine ;  Boaz 
remained  in  Bethlehem,  and  continued  rich  and  power- 
ful. Yet  though  wealthy,  he  was  not  careless — he  comes 
into  the  field  to  inspect  the  reapers.  Frugality,  if  it  de- 
generate not  into  avarice,  enables  us  on  just  occasions  to 
be  liberal.  He  who  wastes  and  disregards  his  substance 
can  neither  supply  his  own  wants  nor  those  of  others. 

Educated  in  the  school  of  affliction,  and  called  to  pe- 
nury by  Him  who  at  his  pleasure  divideth  to  every  one 
as  he  will,  Ruth  goes  forth  to  glean  in  the  fields  of  Boaz. 
The  Divine  Providence  which  conducted  her  thither, 
gives  her  an  early  recompense  for  her  love  and  duty  to 
Naomi.  From  the  reapers  she  experiences  kindness — 
from  their  lord  generosity,  protection,  friendship.  Even 
this  was  a  presage  of  her  better  estate.  She  returns 
wealthy  with  her  ephah  of  barley,  and  blesses  the  libe- 


NAOMI,  111 

rality  of  her  benefactor.  Wisely  doth  Naomi  counsel 
lier  not  to  be  seen  in  any  other  field  while  the  harvest 
lasted.  A  grateful  acceptance  of  favors  is  in  some  mea- 
sure a  requital  of  them.  The  God  of  heaven  bestows 
on  us  his  most  precious  gifts:  O  let  us  not  desert  him, 
nor  turn  to  the  world,  which  can  only  a  fiord  us  vanity 
and  vexation  of  spirit! 

And  now,  secure  in  her  daughter's  innocence — in  the 
uprightness  of  her  own  designs — in  the  simplicity  of 
these  primitive  days — in  the  prudence  and  piety  of  her 
kinsman — Naomi  dismisses  Ruth  to  the  threshing-floor 
of  Boaz.  The  silence  of  the  night,  the  festivity  of  the 
season,  the  improbability  of  discovery,  the  youth  and 
beauty  of  the  stranger,  prevail  not  against  the  chastity 
of  this  servant  of  God.  The  progenitor  of  Him  who 
was  innocence  itself  blesses  her  as  a  father,  encourages 
her  as  a  friend,  rewards  her  as  a  patron,  and  sends  her 
away  no  less  pure,  and  far  more  happy,  enriched  by  his 
present  bounty  and  by  his  promises  of  future  kindness. 

From  the  threshing-floor  Boaz  repairs  to  the  gate,  and 
assembles  the  elders  of  Bethlehem.  The  object  of  his 
love,  destitute  as  she  was  of  friends  and  fortune,  had 
yet  the  best  of  all  portions.  '^  The  city  of  my  people 
doth  know  that  thou  art  a  virtuous  woman."  Virtue, 
where  it  meets  a  heart  that  knows  how  to  value  it,  is  of 
far,  far  more  estimation  than  thousands  of  gold  and  silver! 

The  legal  impediments  are  removed — Ruth  becomes 
the  wife  of  Boaz.  Her  faith,  her  meekness,  her  piety 
meet  with  their  merited  and  distinguished  reward  — 
Marah  is  once  more  Naomi — God  hatli  turned  her  hea- 
viness into  joy,  hath  put  off'  her  sackcloth  and  girded 
her  with  gladness.  How  sure  and  how  bountiful  are  his 
rewards!  AVho  ever  came  under  the  shadow  of  his 
wings  in  vain?  Who  ever  lost  by  trusting  in  him'? 
Who  ever  forsook  the  Moab  of  this  world  for  the  true 
Israel,  and  did  not  at  last  rejoice  in  the  exchange  1 


112  hall's  scripture  history. 


24.— THE   BIRTH   OF   SAMUEL. 

The  house  of  God  in  Shiloh  was  often  the  resort  of 
the  pious  Elkanah.  Frequently  he  appeared  there  in  his 
course  of  attendance  as  a  descendant  of  Aaron — thrice 
a  year  with  his  sons — once,  on  the  day  of  solemn  an- 
nual sacrifice,  with  all  his  familJ^  His  office  led  him  to 
assist  at  the  oblations  of  others,  but  he  would  not  with- 
hold his  own.  He  admonishes  the  people  not  to  appear 
empty  before  their  God,  and  what  he  enjoins  he  prac- 
tices. Those  who  teach  others  ought  ever  to  be  exam- 
ples to  them  in  word,  in  conversation,  in  charity,  in 
spirit,  in  faith,  in  purity. 

There  is  nothing  more  lovely  than  cheerfulness  in  the 
service  of  God.  He  whom  God  visits  with  his  salvation 
fails  not  to  rejoice  in  the  gladness  of  his  people,  and  to 
give  thanks  with  his  inheritance.  The  day  of  Elkanah's 
devotion  is  the  day  of  his  triumph.  What  earthly  joy 
can  so  elevate  the  heart  of  man  as  the  light  of  God's 
countenance  and  favor] 

The  childless  Hannah  finds  in  her  festal  portion  a 
proof  of  her  husband's  love.  It  is  the  property  of  true 
mercy  to  regard  the  weakest ;  in  our  disappointments 
and  sorrows  we  become  especial  objects  of  the  indul- 
gence of  our  God.  He  knows  how  to  dispense  his  fa- 
vors so  as  to  give  us  cause  both  for  humility  and  grati- 
tude. Much  is  granted  by  our  all-gracious  Creator — 
something  he  yet  leaves  us  to  desire.  Were  it  not  so, 
mankind  would  be  too  haughty  or  too  miserable. 

But  the  love  of  Elkanah,  thus  wisely  and  well  be- 
stowed, causes  the  matron  to  endure  the  persecution 
and  taunts  of  her  envious  rival.  Peninnah,  surrounded 
by  her  youthful  oflspring,  cannot  taste  happiness  but  at 
the  price  of  another's  misery.  A  good  heart,  while  it 
enjoys  the  blessing  of  God,  can  pity  those  that  want; 


THE    BIRTH    OF   SAMUEL.  113 

uhile  envy  produces  only  one  benefit,  that  the  sin  of 
others  teaches  us  patience  and  charity.  On  the  return 
of  each  solemnity  was  Hannah  made  the  victim  of  jea- 
lousy and  scorn — every  year  was  she  disturbed  in  her 
sacrifice  and  at  her  devotions.  Amidst  their  festivity 
her  cup  was  bitterness — she  mingled  her  drink  with 
weeping.  Yet  the  husband  of  this  afflicted  mourner  en- 
deavored, with  unremitted  tenderness,  to  assuage  her 
sorrows.  "  Why  weepest  thou  1  Am  I  not  better  to 
thee  than  ten  sons  f  It  is  the  too  common  weakness 
of  the  feeling  heart  to  give  such  advantage  to  an  enemy. 
What  would  malice  requfre,  but  the  distress  of  those  it 
persecutes]  In  so  doing  we  delight  our  adversary — we 
betray  our  own  cause — we  burn  incense  on  the  altar  of 
envy — we  bring  on  ourselves  aggravated  wrongs.  Un- 
der such  trials  as  these  our  best  security  is  to  possess 
our  souls  in  patience.  Anger  is  then  disgraced  and  de- 
feated j  the  envenomed  weapons  fall  harmless  at  the  feet 
of  those  who  would  fasten  them  in  our  bosoms. 

The  comfort  which  she  cannot  find  in  the  persuasions 
of  her  husband,  Hannah  seeks  in  the  mercy  of  heaven. 
She  rises  from  the  feast — she  repairs  to  the  temple  of 
God — she  pours  out  her  complaint  before  him — she 
shows  before  him  her  trouble.  Whatever  be  the  afflic- 
tion, here  is  the  remedy.  In  the  worst  of  calamities, 
prayer  is  yet  the  christian's  resource  j  when  all  other 
help  fails  him  this  remains,  and,  while  he  has  a  heart, 
comforts  it. 

The  grief  of  Hannah  adds  fervor  to  her  devotion  ;  she 
v/eeps,  she  prays,  she  vows.  If  God  will  grant  her  a  son, 
she  will  consecrate  the  precious  gift  to  the  Giver.  If 
his  birth  shall  make  him  a  Levite,  her  still  more  solemn 
dedication  shall  make  him  a  Nazarite  j  and  even  his  mi- 
nority shall  be  devoted  to  the  temple.  If  we  would  ob- 
tain any  benefit,  let  us  ask  it  of  God  with  a  reference  to 
his  glory,  and  we  shall  not  solicit  in  vain. 


114'  hall's  scripture  history. 

The  prayers  of  this  afflicted  servant  of  God,  at  the 
moment  of  their  utterance,  are  strangely  misconstrued 
by  his  priest.  Her  grief,  her  devotion,  the  humility  of 
her  demeanor  protect  her  not  from  an  unkind  and  rash- 
ly-formed suspicion.    Eli  taxes  her  with  intemperance. 

Inured  to  reproaches,  she  answers  in  all  the  meekness 
and  serenity  of  conscious  innocence  j  and,  without  en- 
tering into  a  clamorous  expostulation,  professes  herself 
to  be  no  daughter  of  Belial,  but  a  woman  troubled  in 
spirit.  Eli  sees  his  error  and  recants  it,*  and,  to  make 
amends  for  his  unjust  censure,  dismisses  her  with  his 
blessings  and  his  prayers. 

She  began  her  devotions  in  sorrow — she  concludes 
them  in  thankfulness  and  joy.  Great  is  the  peace  of 
that  heart  which  has  unburdened  its  cares,  and  addresses 
its  fervent  supplications  to  God.  The  prayer  of  faith  is 
no  sooner  made  on  earth  than  it  is  heard  in  heaven. 
When  we  have  sought  unto  God  in  our  distress,  we 
shall  obtain  either  relief  or  patience. 

The  sacrifice  is  ended.  Elkanah  and  his  family  rise 
up  to  return  to  Ramah.  Blessed  is  she  that  believeth, 
for  there  shall  be  a  performance  of  those  things  which 
were  told  her  from  the  Lord.  The  son  of  his  mother's 
prayers,  in  his  very  name,  shall  acknowledge  the  mercy 
which  gave  him  being,  and  the  vow  which  consecrated 
him  to  heaven. 

When  the  appointed  time  returns,  the  father  of  Samuel 
calls  his  family  to  their  holy  journey — bids  them  prepare 
for  their  anniversary  sacrifice,  when  their  feet  shall 
stand  within  the  gates  of  the  sanctuary.  The  success 
of  those  prayers  which  Hannah  had  offered  up  in  the 
house  of  God  now  detains  her  at  home.  The  charge  of 
her  infant  is  a  temporary  obstacle  to  devotions,  which 
shall  afterwards  be  paid  with  increase  of  gratitude  and 
love.  That  soul  is  cold  and  indifferent  to  religion  which 
en  idle  and  needless  pretences  absents  itself  from  the 


THE    BIRTH    OF    SAMUEL.  113 

service  of  God.  Necessary  works  of  charity  alone  af- 
ford a  dispensation.  The  world  is  then  his  temple,  and 
whatsoever  we  do  becomes  an  act  of  devotion. 

At  last,  when  her  child  is  weaned,  she  goes  up  and 
pays  that  vow  which  she  promised  with  her  lips  jjnd 
spake  v/ith  her  heart  when  she  was  in  her  affliction. 
Never  did  she  go  up  to  worship  with  so  joyful  a  heart 
as  now,  when  she  offers  to  God  that  precious  gift  which 
his  goodness  bestowed  and  her  grateful  piety  returns. 
Nor  does  she  only  present  her  son,  but  brings  with  him 
sacrifices  more  costly  and  more  numerous  than  the  law 
of  God  enjoins.  She  deems  all  this  too  little  to  express 
her  thankfulness  for  the  mercy  which  remembered  and 
the  power  which  removed  her  sorrows.  If  our  hearts 
are  truly  sensible  of  the  loving-kindness  of  God,  we 
shall  rejoice  in  the  tribute  of  praise  more  than  in  the 
benefits  themselves  which  we  acknowledge.  We  shall 
be  as  anxious  to  show  our  humble  and  fervent  affections 
as  to  attain  the  object  of  our  wishes.  We  shall  not  rest 
till  we  have  attempted  to  discharge  (how  feebly  and 
imperfectly  soever)  our  debt  of  gratitude. 

The  obligation  of  a  secret  vow  is  no  less  than  if  it 
had  been  made  before  ten  thousand  witnesses.  The  pro- 
mise, whereby  the  mother  of  Samuel  devoted  him  to 
God,  was  uttered  in  solemn  silence.  It  was  enough  that 
her  own  heart  knew  it,  and  God,  who  is  greater  than 
the  heart.  "  For  this  child  I  prayed — now  therefore  I 
have  given  him  unto  the  Lord." 

Eli  beholds  with  joy  the  fruit  of  those  prayers  to 
which  his  own  blessing  had  given  a  sanction — he  now 
receives  the  matron,  not  with  suspicion,  but  with  affec- 
tionate welcome.  His  heart  is  moved.  The  proof  which 
was  afforded  of  the  mercy  of  God  and  the  grateful  fidel- 
ity of  his  handmaid,  called  him  to  his  knees  :  he  wor- 
shipped the  Lord.  In  vain  do  we  contemplate  the  good- 
ness of  our  heavenly  Father  and   the   virtues  of  our 


116  hall's  scripture  history. 

christian  brethren,   if  we    do  not   glorify  God  for  his 
mercy  to  others  as  well  as  to  ourselves. 

The  happy  mother  returns,  enriched  with  the  bless- 
ings of  God  and  of  his  servant.  That  piety,  which  de- 
voted her  only  child  to  heaven,  does  not  fail  of  its  re- 
ward. The  gift  is  recompensed  with  a  lavish  hand.  A 
numerous  offspring  repay  her  for  that  one,  who  was  no 
less  hers  because  he  was  God's.  No  longer  is  she  the 
subject  of  indignity  and  scorn — no  longer  is  she  asham- 
ed when  she  speaketh  with  her  enemies  in  the  gate.  She 
blesses  Him  who  maketh  the  barren  woman  to  keep 
house  and  to  be  a  joyful  mother  of  children. 


25.— E  L I . 

The  sons  of  Eli  are  as  profligate  as  their  father  is 
holy.  Had  example  or  education  the  power  of  entailing 
virtue,  we  should  not  behold  the  consecrated  vestments 
profaned  by  the  crimes  of  Hophni  and  of  Phinehas.  But, 
alas,  in  these  ministers  of  God,  these  attendants  at  his 
eacred  altar,  we  see  nothing  but  monsters  of  impiety, 
sacrilege  and  lust.  When  such  as  these  are  degenerate, 
their  wickedness  is  above  all  others,  as  their  office  is 
more  eminently  sacred.  An  abandoned  priest  is  the 
greatest  criminal  upon  earth. 

Thus  that  altar,  which  expiated  the  sins  of  the  people, 
added  to  those  of  the  descendants  of  Aaron.  But  while 
the  altar  sanctified  not  its  ministers,  their  want  of  sanc- 
tity deprived  not  the  offering  of  its  efficacy.  The  de- 
pravity of  the  priest  is  his  own — the  comfort  of  the  or- 
dinance is  from  God.  The  ministers  of  religion  may 
show  the  path  to  heaven  by  their  voice^  while  their  feet 


ELI.  117 

walk  in  the  way  toward  destruction.  A  sacerdotal  habit 
may  enclose  a  heart  full  of  all  subtlety  and  mischief — 
and  he  whose  doctrine  tends  to  bring  salvation  to  others, 
must  take  heed  to  himself,  or  he  will  be  a  cast  away. 

Unjustly,  therefore,  did  the  people  abhor  the  offer- 
ing of  the  Lord  because  of  the  impiety  of  his  minis- 
ters. It  is  dangerous  not  to  distinguish  between  the 
work  and  tlie  agent.  If  we  are  ofTended  with  our  God 
because  offence  comcth  from  man,  we  charge  our 
Maker  foolishly,  and  are  deservedly  the  objects  of  his 
displeasure. 

All  Israel  exclaimed  at 'the  flagitious  conduct  of  Eli's 
children.  If  their  father  knew  it  not,  his  ignorance  was 
criminal — nothing  but  age  can  plead  in  his  excuse,  that 
his  voice  was  not  first  heard  in  rebuking  the  offenders ; 
but  now,  when  his  eyes  can  no  longer  be  closed  against 
the  truth,  his  admonitions  are  so  gentle,  his  partiality 
so  notorious,  that  whether  as  a  father,  a  high  priest,  or 
a  judge,  he  sacrifices  his  acknowledged  duty  to  the 
feelings  of  misplaced  indulgence.  He  forbore  not  to 
reprove  the  mother  of  Samuel  with  severity,  on  the 
bare  suspicion  of  a  fault ;  but  the  notorious  villany  of 
Hophni  and  Phinehas  shall  pass  unnoticed,  or  be  com- 
mented on  in  such  a  manner  as  to  meet  with  coun- 
tenance rather  than  discouragement.  ''  Nay,  my  sons, 
it  is  no  good  report  that  I  hear."  Was  this  an  adequate 
censure,  was  this  a  just  punishment  for  those  who  were 
guilty  of  such  flagrant  offences  1  of  rapine — of  adulte- 
ry— of  profanation  ? 

But  while  human  authority  thus  sleeps,  the  justice  of 
God  is  awake.  Eli  shall  learn  that  his  imprudent  ten- 
derness towards  his  offspring  was  barbarity  in  the  ex- 
treme. The  sentence  is  gone  forth.  ^'  He  shall  see  his 
enemy  in  the  habitation  of  the  Lord — his  sons  shall  be 
cut  off  in  one  day — the  honor  of  the  priesthood  shall  be 
taken  from  his  house — his  posterity  shall  make  humble 


118  hall's    SCHIPTtJRE    HISTORY. 

application  to  his  successors  for  a  piece  of  silver  and  a 
morsel  of  bread." 

The  lights  of  the  tenr^ple  were  dim  and  ready  to  give 
place  to  morning,  when  God  called  Samuel  to  denounce 
his  indignation  against  the  ofTenders.  Unaccustomed  as 
yet  to  the  heavenly  voice,  and  mistaking  it  for  that  of 
Eli,  the  youth  repairs  to  his  master  and  demands  his 
pleasure — while  the  high-priest,  as  better  acquainted 
with  the  ways  of  heaven,  attributes  to  God  those  ac- 
cents which  himself  heard  not.  He  is  a  more  careful 
fsuardian,  than  a  father — he  teaches  Samuel  v»'hat  he 
shall  ansvx^er :  ''  Speak,  Lord,  for  thy  servant  heareth  1" 

Several  years  had  Samuel  ministered  before  the 
Lord — never  till  now  had  he  been  addressed  in  person. 
Lo,  the  first  words  miraculously  imparted  to  him  are 
demonstrations  of  terror  and  vengeance.  God  begins  to 
prepare  the  hearts  of  his  servants  with  holy  fear;  he 
makes  those  sensible  of  his  greatness  whom  he  calls  to 
be  eminent  instruments  of  his  glory. 

The  conscience  of  the  high-priest  whispered  to  him 
that  the  Divine  message  concerned  himself — sin  needs 
no  vision  to  assure  it  of  punishment.  A  mind  thus  dis- 
turbed forebodes  terrible  things;  and  though  it  cannot 
single  out  the  judgment  allotted  to  it,  is  yet  in  a  con- 
fused expectation  of  some  tremendous  evil.  Poverty, 
death,  desolation  to  himself  and  his  offspring,  was  de- 
nounced from  the  God  he  had  offended.  Eli  receives 
the  dreadful  sentence  with  unmoved  patience  and  hum- 
ble submission.  ''  It  is  the  Lord — let  him  do  what  seem- 
eth  him  good."  O  admirable  faith,  and  more  than  hu- 
man resolution !  Constancy,  worthy  of  the  venerable 
priest  of  Jehovah,  worthy  of  a  heart  sacrificed  to  hea- 
ven !  However  culpable  with  respect  to  his  sons,  lie  is 
dutiful  to  God  ;  and  meekly  resigns  himself  to  the  good 
pleasure  of  the  Almighty.  "  It  is  the  Lord,  whom  I  have 
ever  found  holy,  and  just,   and  gracious.    Let  him  do 


ELI.  119 

what  seemeih  him  good — for  whatever  seemeth  him  good 
cannot  be  otherwise  than  good,  however  it  may  seem 
to  me  !"  Every  man  can  receive  the  blessings  of  heaven 
with  complacency — but  to  bow  the  knee  in  adoration  to 
our  Creator  when  he  visits  us  in  indignation,  this,  thisr 
is  peculiar  only  to  the  faithful ! 

The  scandal  was  public ;  so  must  be  the  punishment. 
Repentance  prevents  the  elcrnal  displeasure  of  God — 
but  it  may  be  necessary  both  for  the  sinner  and  for 
mankind  that  the  temporal  judgment  take  its  course. 
Be  it  our  care,  and  the  subject  of  our  earnest  prayers 
to  the  Almighty,  that  what  cannot  be  averted  may  at 
least  be  sanctified  !  The  exhortation  speaketh  unto  us 
as  unto  children,  "My  son,  despise  not  thou  the  chast- 
ening of  the  Lord,  nor  faint  when  thou  art  rebuked  of 
him ;  for  wdiom  the  Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth,  and 
scourgeth  every  son  whom  he  receiveth."  The  venera- 
ble Eli  must  drink  of  the  same  cup  with  the  wise  and 
beloved  Solomon.  "  I  will  be  to  him  a  father,  and  he 
shall  be  to  me  a  son.  If  he  commit  iniquity  I  will  chast- 
en him  with  the  rod  of  men,  and  with  the  stripes  of 
the  children  of  men — but  my  mercy  shall  not  depart 
away  from  him  for  ever." 

The  presumption  of  Israel  gave  early  opportunity 
for  the  infliction  of  that  sentence  denounced  against 
the  sons  of  Eli.  The  people  are  smitten  before  their 
enemies — they  send  for  the  ark  of  God  into  the  field. 
Who  gave  them  such  authority  ]  Not  Eli — not  Sam- 
uel— not  the  God  of  Samuel.  The  rashness  of  the 
elders,  the  superstition  of  the  populace,  which  flourish- 
ed amidst  the  decline  of  true  piety,  caused  this  im- 
pious profanation.  When  the  ark  is  brought  into  the 
host  Israel  fills  the  heaven  and  shakes  the  earth  with 
acclamations.  Hypocrites  rest  all  their  hopes  in  the 
externals  of  religion,  and  regard  not  the  soul  and  sub- 
stance of  it,  whence  only  they  can  obtain  salvation  and 


120  hall's  scripture  history. 

peace.  But  God  will  not  become  the  minister  of  sin — 
rather  shall  his  own  ark  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Phi- 
listines than  he  will  give  countenance  to  the  madness 
of  the  people.  Israel  is  discomfited — the  ark,  which 
had  been  brought  into  contempt,  is  carried  into  cap- 
tivity— and  the  authors  of  this  complicated  mischief  are 
justly  cut  off  in  their  sin. 

The  messenger  who  ran  from  the  host,  filled  the 
city  with  cries — they  reach  the  ears  of  Eli.  The  good 
old  man,  after  ninety-eight  years,  still  sits  in  the  judg- 
ment-seat as  one  who  never  thought  himself  too  aged 
to  do  God  service.  He  hears  the  news  of  Israel's  de- 
feat, of  the  death  of  his  sons,  with  sorrow  and  yet  with 
patience — but  when  he  is  told  that  the  ark  of  God  is 
taken,  he  can  live  no  longer — the  word  strikes  him 
down  from  his  throne,  and  lays  his  grey  head  in  the 
dust.  Not  outward  magnificence,  not  state,  not  wealth, 
not  favor,  but  the  presence  of  Jehovah  is  the  preserva- 
tion of  his  Church;  when  this  is  gone  the  glory  is 
departed  from  Israel.  O  worse  than  no  people,  more 
miserable  than  the  very  heathen  !  Philistines  depart  in 
triumph  with  the  ark  and  victory.  The  scattered  rem- 
nant of  Israel  behold  with  horror  that  their  iniquities 
have  separated  between  them  and  their  God. 


26.— SAUL    ANOINTED. 

Early  did  Samuel  begin  his  acquaintance  with  God, 
jmd  he  continued  it  to  his  grey  hairs.  If  we  are  faithful 
to  our  heavenly  Master,  our  age  endears  us  to  him  the 
more.  When  the  shadows  of  the  evening  are  stretched 
out  and  the  day  is  declining  upon  us.  He  who  hath  made 


SAUL    ANOIMED.  121 

and  sustained  us  hitherto,  \vill  continue  still  to  support 
and  deliver  us. 

Had  the  sons  of  Samuel  resembled  their  parent,  Israel 
had  not  so  earnestly  desired  a  king — but  these  youth- 
ful judges  walk  not  in  the  ways  of  their  father — they 
accept  bribes — they  pervert  judgment.  The  Hebrews 
are  clamorous  for  a  new  form  of  government ;  and  God, 
whose  ancient  purpose  it  was  to  raise  up  a  king  to 
Israel,  thinks  fit  to  listen  to  their  importunity.  The 
prophet  applies  to  heaven  for  direction,  and  He  by 
whom  kings  reign  undertakes  to  appoint  the  sovereign 
of  his  people. 

The  father  of  Saul  was  distinguished  amidst  the  tribe 
of  Benjamin — his  son  was  graceful  and  majestic  in  per- 
son, and  as  yet  uncorrupted  in  mind.  The  providence 
of  God  brings  this  youth  to  the  place  of  Samuel's 
abode — he  comes  on  the  festal  day  of  sacrifice — he 
comes,  and  he  finds  the  prophet  prepared  for  his  recep- 
tion. God  had  already  foretold  his  arrival :  already  he 
had  commanded  Samuel  to  anoint  him  king  over  Israel. 

How  kindly  is  Saul  received  and  entertained  by 
Samuel,  whose  present  dignity  was  to  be  eclipsed  by 
the  royalty  of  his  youthful  guest!  Instead  of  envying 
his  successor's  greatness,  instead  of  looking  unkindly 
on  the  man  who  should  deprive  him  of  his  authority,  he 
welcomes  him  to  his  house,  bids  him  to  the  feast,  ho- 
nors him  w^ith  the  chief  seat,  and  forbears  not  to  inti- 
mate his  approaching  dignity  :  '*  On  whom  is  the  desire 
of  Israel  1    Is  it  not  on  thee,  and  on  thy  father's  house  V* 

Amazed  at  so  strange  a  salutation,  Saul  modestly  de- 
clines this  unexpected  and  unmerited  homage — ^justly 
represents  his  tribe  as  the  least  of  Israel,  and  meekly 
deems  himself  the  meanest  of  his  family.  Benjamin  had 
not  yet  recovered  from  its  almost  universal  slaughter — 
yet  from  this  remnant  of  a  tribe  God  selects  a  prince 
for  his  people — on   these   desolate    ruins  he  raises  a 

Script.  Hist.  6 


122  hall's  scaiPTURE  history. 

throne.  It  was  doubtless  in  sincerity  that  Saul  thus  hum- 
bled himself  before  the  prophet  of  God — his  beginning 
promised  happiness  to  himself  and  to  Israel,  but  true 
jrrace  was  not  in  him — he  bare  not  fruit  in  age.  Bless- 
ed is  he  that  endureth  unto  the  end — for  he  shall  be 
saved. 

At  length  Samuel  unveils  to  the  astonished  youth 
the  whole  counsel  of  God — he  bestows  the  oil  of  regal 
consecration  on  his  head,  the  kiss  of  homage  on  his 
cheek,  and  sends  him  away  rich  in  joyful  expectation. 
And  now,  lest  his  amazement  should  end  in  distrust,  he 
gives  him  a  proof  of  his  intelligence  with  heaven,  by 
foretelling  those  events  which  should  befall  him  on  his 
return  ;  he  shows  him  whom  he  shall  meet,  what  they 
shall  say,  how  himself  shall  be  affected.  Every  word 
prepares  him  for  his  approaching  coronation.  No  sooner 
vsas  Saul  departed  from  the  presence  of  Samuel  than 
God  gave  him  another  spirit,  raised  his  thoughts  and 
dispositions  to  the  height  of  royalty,  prepared  his  head 
and  his  heart  for  the  diadem,  and  taught  him  how  to 
represent  himself,  and  supply  the  place  of  God  to  his 
people. 

After  partaking  in  the  defeat  and  confusion  of  their 
idol,  after  experiencing  the  terror  of  God's  avenging 
thunders,  the  Philistines  had  long  refrained  from  hosti- 
lities against  Israel ;  but  other  enemies  were  in  their 
borders  J  and  Nahash  with  his  Ammonites  was  at  their 
gates.  The  commencement  of  Saul's  reign  is  a  season 
of  war  and  tumult.  The  anointed  king  shrinks  from  a 
task  so  full  of  difficulty  and  danger,  till  the  God  who 
had  chosen  him  brings  him  forth  to  the  light,  offers 
him  to  the  applause  and  admiration  of  his  people. 

Nov/  the  people  shout  for  joy  ;  they  behold  the  so- 
vereign whom  they  had  anxiously  desired  ;  they  behold 
his  majestic  person,  his  royal  demeanor,  and  they  en- 
tertain the  most  flattering  presages  of  happiness  under 


SAUL    ANOIMED.  123 

his  protection.  Samuel,  who  had  ceased  to  be  their 
judge,  was  yet  their  prophet;  in  this  moment  of  trans- 
port he  instructs  both  king-  and  people  in  their  mutual 
duties  J  he  writes  them  in  a  book,  he  lays  it  up  before 
the  Lord.  The  most  powerful  monarch  is  still  under 
subjection  to  the  laws  of  heaven.  If  he  transgress  these 
he  is  accountable  to  One  who  is  higher  than  the  high- 
est, King  of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords.  Equally  anxious 
for  the  welfare  of  the  prince  and  people,  Samuel  teaches 
the  former  justice  and  moderation,  the  latter  obedience 
and  loyalty.  Whoever  disseminates  other  doctrines, 
does  his  utmost  to  effect  the  ruin  of  the  community, 
and  is  the  adversary  of  God  and  man. 

There  was  never  yet  virtue  so  perfect  as  to  escape 
detraction.  Amidst  the  rejoicings  of  Israel  at  the  in- 
auguration of  Saul,  murmurs  of  dissatisfaction  were  ut- 
tered by  the  seditious.  They  well  knew  that  Saul  had 
been  raised  to  his  dignity  by  the  immediate  appoint- 
ment of  God — that  he  sought  it  not — that  he  coveted 
it  not — that  he  modestly  retired  from  the  exercise  of  it. 
The  honor  of  his  family,  the  beauty  of  his  person,  the 
privilege  of  his  Divine  authority,  the  praises  bestowed 
on  him  by  Samuel,  could  not  protect  him  from  obloquy  ; 
even  merit  and  virtue  afford  sufficient  ground  for  envy 
in  the  soul  of  the  wicked.  In  such  cases  a  man's  com- 
fort arises  from  himself  j  from  the  conscious  rectitude 
of  his  heart. 

The  armies  of  Nahash  approach,  the  danger  grows 
more  and  more  imminent,  and  the  news  of  Gilead's  dis- 
tress fills  all  Israel  with  affliction.  The  people  are  in 
tears  ;  Saul  is  moved  with  ardor  rather  than  sorrow. 
God,  who  had  before  given  him  the  spirit  of  prophecy, 
now  bestows  on  him  a  spirit  of  fortitude  :  now  he  proves 
himself  worthy  of  a  throne,  worthy  to  be  the  prince  and 
captain  of  his  people.  He  undertakes  and  accomplishes 
the  deliverance  of  Gilead  ;  assembles  Israel,  leads  them 


l^i  HALLOS  scninuRE  iiistohy. 

to  the  field,  raises  the  siege,  puts  the  enemy  to  flight, 
brings  peace  and  victory  to  his  country. 

The  grateful  Israelites  now  inquire  who  they  were 
whose  voices  had  refused  allegiance  to  such  a  leader. 
*' Bring  forth  these  men,  that  we  may  slay  them."  The 
crime  of  these  men  was  the  same,  had  Saul  been  defeat- 
ed in  Gilead  j  but  now  his  triumph  animates  the  hearts 
of  his  people,  and  teaches  them  to  call  down  instant 
vengeance  on  the  head  of  his  enemies.  The  king  him- 
self, who  had  been  injured  most  deeply,  prevents  its 
execution.  He  will  not  have  any  interruption  to  the 
general  joy.  No  blood  shall  flow  by  the  hand  of  Israel 
but  that  of  the  invaders.  "  There  shall  no  man  die  this 
day ;  for  this  day  the  Lord  hath  saved  his  people." 

How  nobly  was  the  beginning  of  Saul's  reign  adorned 
with  every  royal  virtue — with  wisdom,  valor  and  cle- 
mency !  His  prophecies  showed  him  to  be  miraculously 
w^ise  ;  his  battle  and  victory  bore  witness  to  his  cour- 
age;  his  pardon  of  these  rebels  demonstrated  his  mer- 
cy. He  who  had  conquered  the  Ammonites  was  now 
triumphant  in  a  severer  conflict ;  he  overcame  the  emo- 
tions of  anger  and  resentment ;  he  knew  when  to  draw 
the  sword  and  when  to  let  it  rest  harmless  in  the  scab- 
bard. He  who  is  slow  to  anger  is  greater  than  the 
mighty  ;  and  he  who  ruletli  his  spirit,  than  he  who 
taketh  or  rescueth  a  city.  Now  the  Israelites  see  they 
have  a  king  who  can  both  shed  blood  and  spare  it.  His 
gentleness  gains  those  whom  even  his  valor  had  not 
won  to  loyalty.  Had  he  but  continued  as  he  began, 
David  had  remained  in  the  peaceful  obscurity  of  his 
pastoral  life.  Mercy  and  justice  are  inseparable  in  God; 
they  should  dwell  conjointly  in  the  hearts  of  kings. 
Wheresoever  they  are  severed,  government  falls  into 
distraction,  and  terminates  in  ruin. 


SAMUEL    A^D   DAVID,  125 


27.— SAMUEL  AND  DAVID. 

To  declare  the  end  from  the  beginning  is  solely  the 
prerogative  of  infinite  wisdom.  In  the  commencement 
of  Saul's  reign  he  was  renowned  for  courage,  justice, 
and  mercy ;  in  its  progress  he  proved  to  be  a  sacri- 
legious tyrant  and  a  rebel  against  God.  Samuel  mourns 
for  him,  who  was  too  obdurate  to  mourn  for  himself. 
The  defection  of  Saul  brings  tears  into  the  eyes  of  the 
aged  prophet.  Had  one  spark  of  ambition  lurked  in  his 
heart,  he  had  rejoiced  at  the  misconduct  of  his  rival — 
but  his  heart  was  the  seat  of  nobler  passions.  It  grieves 
him  to  see  the  plant  so  soon  withered  which  he  had 
raised  to  such  distinguished  honor  in  the  garden  of 
Israel.  He  weeps,  and  he  retires  to  Ramah — he  will  no 
longer  be  a  witness  of  enormities  which  he  can  neither 
prevent  nor  remedy.  He  will  not  countenance  that  man 
with  his  presence,  on  whom  he  sees  God  frown. 

The  Almighty  does  not  blame  this  sorrow,  but  mode- 
rates it.  "How  long  wilt  thou  mourn  for  Saul  ]"  Those 
tears  which  flow  justly  for  his  sin,  must  cease,  because 
of  his  rejection.  A  good  heart  relies  on  the  justice  of 
God's  decrees,  and  forgets  all  earthly  prepossessions, 
while  it  has  respect  to  heaven.  God  will  not  bereave 
his  children  of  a  king,  but  will  bestow  on  them  one 
more  worthy.  Virtue  and  sovereignty  shall  be  united — 
Jehovah  himself  shall  rule  by  the  ministry  of  his  chosen 
servant.  Happy  are  the  people  who  are  in  such  a  case; 
yea,  blessed  are  the  people  who  have  the  Lord  for  their 
God. 

The  prophet  receives  a  commission  to  repair  to  Deth- 
lehem.  He  carries  with  him,  not  a  sceptre,  in  token  of 
dominion,  but  the  holy  oil,  to  indicate  Divine  consecra- 
tion. He  is  directed  to  the  house  of  Jesse,  the  descend- 
ant of  Ruth  the  Moabitess.    Her  faith  and  piety  made 


126 

her  worthy  to  become  the  parent  of  kings.  The  retri- 
butions of  God  are  ever  bountiful,  and  exceed  our  ut- 
most deservings.  The  just  man  walketh  in  his  integ- 
rity— his  children  are  blessed  after  him. 

The  policy  is  not  unlawful  which  eludes  the  suspi- 
cion of  a  jealous  tyrant.  Samuel  takes  a  heifer  with 
him  for  sacrifice.  There  was  no  place,  no  time  where- 
in it  was  not  fit  for  the  descendant  of  Aaron  to  offer 
peace-oflerings  unto  God  j  but  when  a  king  was  to  be 
anointed,  it  was  an  act,  not  merely  of  devotion,  but  of 
necessity.  The  authority  which  is  derived  from  God 
must  be  consecrated  by  public  solemnities;  every  im- 
portant action  requires  a  sacrifice  to  bless  it,  much 
more  that  on  which  depends  the  welfare  of  a  church 
and  nation. 

The  elders  of  Bethlehem  conjectured,  not  without 
reason,  that  matters  of  highest  import  had  drawn  the 
prophet  from  his  retirement.  They  feared  lest  some 
root  of  wickedness,  springing  up  amongst  them,  had 
given  occasion  for  the  arrival  of  this  unexpected  guest. 
They  welcome  him  with  trembling,  not  on  his  account, 
but  their  own.  "  Comest  thou  peaceably  V  It  is  a  good 
thing  to  revere  the  messengers  of  God,  and  to  expect 
their  admonitions  with  awe.  The  elders  rejoice  to  hear 
of  no  other  errand  than  a  sacrifice — they  hasten  to  pre- 
pare themselves  for  the  pious  solemnity.  We  must  not 
presume  to  sacrifice  unto  God  if  we  are  not  sanctified. 
Unrepented  sin,  lurking  in  the  heart,  renders  our  devo- 
tions ineffectual,  and  the  prayer  of  the  hypocrite  is 
abomination,  because  he  profanes  that  which  should 
be  holy. 

All  the  citizens  sanctify  themselves ;  but  Jesse  and 
his  sons  are  more  especially  sanctified  by  Samuel.  In- 
teresting as  his  errand  was  to  all  Israel,  it  was  peculiarly 
so  to  this  distinguished  family.  With  what  anxiety  did 
Samuel  look  on  the  sons  of  Jesse,  that  he  might  see  the 


SAJIUEL    AND    DAVID.  127 

face  of  the  man  whom  God  had  chosen  I  And  now, 
when  the  eldest  son  came  forth,  a  youth  whose  heauty 
was  not  inferior  to  that  of  Saul,  he  imagines  the  choice 
soon  made,  and  the  first  impulse  of  his  heart  is  to  pour 
the  consecrated  oil  on  the  head  of  Ellab.  "  Surely  the 
Lord's  anointed  is  before  him."  The  best  judgment  is 
subject  to  deceit — the  holiest  prophet  falls  into  error 
if  he  waits  not  for  the  direction  of  God. 

That  which  should  have  forewarned  Samuel,  deceives 
him.  He  had  seen  these  very  hopes  once  frustrated, 
and  yet  his  eye  suggests  to  him  that  Eliab  was  appointed 
to  rule.  But  what  saith  the  answer  of  God  unto  him  ] 
*'Look  not  on  his  countenance,  nor  on  the  height  of  his 
stature,  because  I  have  refused  him — for  God  seeth  not 
as  man  seeth."  The  king  whom  he  will  choose  shall  owe 
his  advancement  not  to  his  person,  but  to  his  heart. 
Seven  sons  of  Jesse  are  presented  to  the  prophet — no 
one  is  omitted  whom  their  father  thought  worthy  of 
honor.  If  Samuel  or  Jesse  had  chosen,  David  had  never 
been  king — yet  behold  him  summoned  from  the  fold, 
and  by  the  choice  ofOod  destined  to  the  throne!  Even 
a  father's  partiality  could  not  suggest  ought  to  Jesse 
which  might  induce  him  to  offer  David  as  a  candidate 
for  honors — yet  him  hath  God  fixed  on  to  rule. 

The  countenance  of  David  was  fair  and  ingenuous- 
hut  he  was  left  with  the  sheep  while  his  brethren  were 
at  the  sacrifice.  j\Iodest  and  simple  in  his  demeanor, 
he  was  judged  unfit  for  royal  dignity.  The  purport  of 
this  consecration,  though  probably  explained  to  Jesse, 
was  doubtless  concealed  from  his  children.  They  un- 
derstood not,  or  believed  not  what  God  would  do  with 
their  brother.  They  saw  him  endued  with  spiritual 
gifts,  but  knew  not  whither  they  tended.  David  returns 
to  his  sheep,  and  in  humble  submission  to  the  will  of 
God  resigns  himself  to  the  disposition  of  those  hands 
which  had  chosen  him — when  suddenly  a  messenger  is 


128  hall's  scripture  history. 

sent  from  Saul  to  call  him  in  all  haste  to  that  court 
of  which  he  should  afterwards  be  master.  The  occa- 
sion is  from  God  as  well  as  the  event. 

That  the  kingdom  is  departed  from  iSaul  is  his  least 
misfortune.  The  Spirit  of  God  departs  also  from  him. 
His  soul  droops  in  melancholy  dejection,  or  raves  with 
tumultuous  frenzy.  His  courtiers  have  recourse  to  an 
expedient,  innocent  at  least,  if  not  fully  efficacious,  to 
allay  the  tempest  of  his  passions.  They  call  in  the 
assistance  of  music — they  fly  for  aid  to  the  harp  of  the 
son  of  Jesse. 

David,  from  the  time  of  his  consecration,  had  lived  in 
the  same  peaceful  retirement  as  before — his  only  care, 
his  only  ambition  was  to  promote  the  welfare  of  his 
flock.  But  the  wisdom  of  God  finds  occasion  to  bring 
him  on  that  theatre  where  he  was  to  shine  with  unri- 
valled lustre.  However  he  is  neglected  by  his  brethren, 
the  acts  of  his  youthful  prowess  against  the  tyrants  of 
the  desert  are  rehearsed — the  fame  of  his  virtues  and 
accomplishments  is  not  buried  in  obscurity.  That  skil), 
which  had  for  its  object  no  more  than  the  recreation  of 
a  pastoral  life,  shall  now  introduce  him  into  the  pre- 
sence of  his  afflicted  sovereign. 

Doubtless  the  father  of  David  noted  these  things,  and 
pondered  them  in  his  heart.  He  could  not  but  behold 
the  wonderful  interposition  of  Divine  Providence,  by 
which  the  youth,  who  was  brought  from  the  field  to  be 
anointed,  was  summoned  thence  as  unexpectedly  to  the 
palace  of  Saul.  Now  he  perceived  that  God  was  pre- 
paring for  the  accomplishment  of  his  promise  ;  and  he 
awaited  the  issue  in  joyful  expectation. 

No  sooner  is  David  in  the  presence  of  Saul  than  he 
obtains  the  royal  favor.  The  Giver  of  all  grace  has  or- 
dained that  even  wicked  men  should  honor  the  virtues 
which  they  wili  not  imitate.  The  harp  of  David  chases 
away  the  melancholy  of  his  lord — the  psalms  which  he 


DAVID    AND    GOLIATH.  129 

sung  to  it  sooth  his  frantic  despair.  To  this  day  their 
efficacy  is  undiminished.  Our  hymns  and  spiritual 
songs  are  adverse  to  the  powers  of  darkness,  and  re- 
joice the  hlessed  angels  of  heaven,  who  sing  their  hal- 
lelujahs in  the  choir  of  glory.  "  It  came  to  pass,  when 
the  evil  spirit  was  upon  Saul,  that  David  took  a  harp 
and  played  with  his  hand  ;  and  Saul  was  refreshed,  and 
was  well,  and  the  evil  spirit  departed  from  him." 


28.— DAVID  AND  GOLIATH. 

The  harp  of  David  has  chased  the  evil  spirit  from 
Saul,  and  the  youth  has  again  leisure  to  retire  to 
Bethlehem.  The  splendor  of  a  court  is  less  dear  to 
him  than  the  solitudes  of  the  wilderness.  A  good  heart 
frames  itself  to  all  conditions,  and  however  outward 
circumstances  vary,  is  still  the  same.  Worldly  minds 
rise  without  difficulty,  but  cannot  descend  from  their 
elevation  with  patience  or  with  safety. 

There  he  remains  amidst  his  flocks  till  God  calls  him 
into  the  field  of  battle.  Forty  days  had  Goliath  defied 
the  armies  of  Israel.  Where  was  the  courage  of  him 
who  once  slew  his  thousands'? — of  him,  who  once  in- 
dignantly asked,  ''  What  aileth  the  people,  that  they 
weep  V — of  him,  whose  own  gigantic  stature  made  him 
no  unequal  competitor  to  the  Philistine  \  The  spirit 
of  God  is  the  spirit  of  fortitude — of  that  Saul's  diso- 
bedience had  deprived  him — it  was  transferred,  with 
the  prophet's  blessing,  to  his  rival. 

Scarcely  has  David  saluted  his  brethren,  when  the 
proud  champion  steps  forward  before  his  troops  and 
renews  his   insolent    challenge    against  Israel.     David 

6* 


130 

sees  him,  hears  his  defiance,  and  wonders  that  all  faces 
turn  pale  at  his  approach.  The  youth  is  filled  with 
Bhame  and  amazement  at  the  pusillanimity  of  his  coun- 
trymen— who,  while  they  fly  from  Goliath,  speak  of  the 
reward  which  should  be  consequent  on  a  victory  they 
dare  not  undertake.  Alas,  how  many,  who  yield  ihcm- 
selves  an  easy  prey  to  their  spiritual  adversaries,  can 
descant  on  the  glory  reserved  in  heaven  for  the  faithful ! 

Those  difficulties  v/hich  appal  faint  hearts  serve  to 
animate  an  heroic  mind.  David  is  ready  to  encounter 
this  mighty  wariior,  because  no  one  else  dares  behold 
him.  While  he  hears  the  proud  boast  of  the  challen- 
ger his  eyes  sparkle  with  indignation,  his  heart  beats 
with  generous  disdain.  '^  Who  is  this  uncircumcised 
Philistine  that  ho  should  defy  the  armies  of  the  living 
Godl" 

The  envious  heart  of  Eliab  considers  this  holy  cou- 
rage as  a  reflection  on  himself.  "  Is  it  for  thee,  proud 
idle  boy,  to  interfere  with  affairs  of  war  1  Is  yonder 
champion  a  fit  antagonist  for  thee  1  What  dost  thou 
think  of  thyself  or  of  us  1  Go  to  thy  sheep,  and  look 
not  in  the  face  of  Goliath.  The  wilderness  becomes 
thee,  and  not  the  field,  unequal  as  thou  art  to  any  here, 
save  only  in  arrogance  and  presumption.  The  pastures 
of  Bethlehem  could  not  detain  thee  ;  thou  must  come 
down  to  see  the  battle.  I  know  thy  pride,  and  the 
naughtiness  of  thine  heart.  This  was  thy  thought — 
There  is  no  glory  to  be  obtained  amidst  the  sheep-folds; 
I  will  seek  it  in  arms.  J\Iij  brethren  are  winning  honor 
amidst  the  troops  of  Israel ,  while  I  am  basely  te?iding  7ny 
flocks  Why  should  not  I  cjideavor  to  obtain  distinction 
as  well  as  they  ?  This  vanity  makes  the  shepherd  a  sol- 
dier, and  the  soldier  a  champion !  Depart,  rash  strip- 
ling, to  thy  crook  and  to  thy  harp  ;  and  leave  swords 
and  spears  for  those  who  know  how  to  use  them  !" 

David,  ere  he  engages  in  other  conflicts,  first  over- 


DAVID    AND    GOLIATH.  131 

comes  himself,  and  then  his  brother — himself,  in  his  pa- 
tient forbearance — his  brother,  in  the  mildness  of  his 
answer,  "  What  have  I  now  done  1  Is  there  not  a 
cause  1"  It  was  not  time  to  return  railing  for  railing, 
when  the  swords  of  the  Philistines  were  drawn,  and 
Goliath  was  defying  the  armies  of  Israel.  Surely  this 
triumph  was  more  difhcult  and  more  glorious  than  that 
which  followed.  That  man  is  fit  to  fight  the  battles  of 
the  Lord  who  has  learned  to  be  victor  over  his  passions. 

The  fire  of  David's  zeal  is  not  to  be  thus  extinguish- 
ed. His  courage,  which  meets  with  scorn  at  the  hands 
of  a  brother,  finds  appla,use  amidst  unprejudiced  hearts. 
The  rumor  flies  to  the  ears  of  the  king,  that  a  youth  is 
found  who  is  desirous  of  encountering  the  Philistine. 
David  is  brought  into  the  presence  of  Saul.  Alas,  that 
ungrateful  prince  has  already  forgotten  not  only  his 
services  but  his  person  !  And  now,  when  he  beholds  the 
young  and  ruddy  shepherd,  and  hears  him  ofier  to  enter 
the  lists  with  Goliath,  he  receives  him  with  a  contemp- 
tuous pity,  *^  Thou  art  not  able  to  go  against  this  Phi- 
listine to  fight  with  him  ;  for  thou  art  but  a  youth,  and 
he  is  a  man  of  war  from  his  youth." 

All  this  cannot  w'eaken  that  heart  which  has  received 
its  strength  from  faith.  David  must  justify  that  courage 
to  Saul  which  he  is  eager  to  prove  against  Goliath.  He 
modestly  recites  the  past  transactions  of  his  life  in  sup- 
port of  his  more  ambitious  pretensions.  *'  Thy  servant 
slew  both  the  lion  and  the  bear;  and  this  uncircumcis- 
ed  Philistine  shall  be  as  one  of  them,  seeing  he  hath 
defied  the  armies  of  the  living  God."  He  knew  that  the 
presumption  of  Goliath  would  be  the  cause  of  his  de- 
struction— he  knew  that  holiness  was  an  invincible 
shield  to  the  faithful.  He  had  already  experienced  the 
blessing  of  God's  assistance,  and  he  relied  on  him  for 
his  continued  favor 

Kesolution  thus  grounded  makes  even  Saul  himself 


132  hall's  sciiiriuRE  iiistohy. 

confident.  David  has  both  his  consent  and  blessing.  He 
comes  to  Saul  as  a  shepherd — he  shall  go  towards  Go- 
liath as  a  warrior.  The  king's  own  armor  is  not  too  rich 
for  one  who  shall  fight  for  his  country.  But  what  avails 
the  splendor  of  Saul's  coat  of  mail  if  it  is  not  adapted 
to  David]  The  honor  is  only  an  encumbrance — danger 
would  ensue  instead  of  security.  The  son  of  Jesse  de- 
clines the  glittering  burden:  his  staff,  his  scrip,  his 
sling,  five  smooth  stones  out  of  the  brook,  are  fitter  for 
his  purpose  than  royal  panoply.  A  time  shall  come, 
when  David,  invested  with  ail  the  honors  of  Saul,  shall 
Und  them  still  a  burden — heavy,  but  not  to  be  relin- 
quished, because  committed  to  him  by  God.  If  we  envy 
the  dignity  of  others,  it  is  through  ignorance  of  the 
anxious  cares  by  which  that  dignity  is  accompanied. 
Could  we  feel  their  weight,  even  for  a  moment,  we 
should  return  to  a  less  exalted  station  with  joy  and 
thankfulness. 

Goliath,  armed  with  his  sword,  and  shield,  and  spear, 
advances  into  the  field.  When  David  appears  in  the  lists 
■with  such  an  adversary,  the  eyes  of  Israel  and  of  the 
Philistines  are  fastened  on  him.  His  countrymen  behold 
him  with  anxiety  and  compassion.  "  Alas,  is  that  strip- 
ling to  contend  against  so  mighty  a  foe  1  Is  he  sent  un- 
armed to  such  a  contest  1  Is  the  honor  of  Israel  entrust- 
ed to  such  hands  as  these  1"  The  Philistines,  especially 
their  champion,  look  on  him  with  the  utmost  scorn  and 
insult.  "  Am  I  a  dog,  that  thou  comest  against  me  with 
staves'?  Come  hither,  and  I  will  give  thy  flesh  to  the 
fowls  of  the  heaven  and  to  the  beasts  of  the  field." 

Presumption  is  both  the  presage  and  the  cause  of  ruin. 
An  avenging  God,  by  the  arm  of  David,  shall  bring  to 
nought  the  arrogance  of  the  unbelievers.  Goliath  shall 
learn  too  late,  how  formidable  that  enemy  is  who  goeth 
forth  in  the  strength  of  the  Lord  God,  who  abideth  un- 
der the  shadow  of  the  Almighty.  David  runs  toward  the 


DAVID    AND    GOLIATH.  133 

Philistine,  and,  full  of  the  hopes  of  victory,  directs  the 
stone  against  his  vast  forehead.  God  was  not  unmindful 
of  his  servant.  He  showed  strength  with  his  arm :  he 
cast  down  the  proud  in  the  imagination  of  his  heart. 
There  lies  the  great  defier  of  Israel,  gasping  in  the 
pangs  of  death,  and  biting  the  earth  Avith  shame  and 
indignation  that  he  falls  by  the  hand  of  a  shepherd. 
So  shall  all  thine  adversaries  perish,  O  Lord! 

O  thou,  who  canst  arm  the  weak  against  the  mighty, 
wherefore  should  we  be  afraid  of  man  that  shall  die,  and 
the  son  of  man  who  shall  be  as  grass,  and  forget  thee, 
our  refuge  and  strength",  our  present  help  in  trouble  ? 
Wherefore  should  we  fear  in  the  day  of  adversity,  be- 
cause of  the  fury  of  the  oppressor,  as  if  he  were  ready 
to  destroy  ]  Thou,  even  thou  art  He  that  comforteth, 
defendeth,  fjghteth  for  us — and  where  is  the  fury  of  the 
oppressor  1 

Thou  turnest  the  face  of  the  wicked  against  them- 
selves— thou  makest  thine  enemies  the  instruments  of 
their  own  destruction.  The  sword  of  Goliath,  in  the 
hand  of  David,  avenges  the  honor  of  God  and  brings 
victory  and  glory  to  Israel. 

When  the  generations  of  men  fled  away  in  terror 
from  the  powers  of  darkness,  thou,  0  Savior,  didst 
undertake  our  cause  alone — thou,  O  Son  of  David,  by 
thy  death  destroying  death,  didst  overcome  the  enemy 
with  his  own  weapons.  Now  is  come  salvation,  and 
strength,  and  the  kingdom  of  our  God,  and  the  power 
of  his  Christ ;  he  hath  ransomed  us ;  he  hath  deliver- 
ed us  from  the  grave.  He  is  gone  into  heaven,  and  is 
on  the  right  hand  of  God;  angels,  and  authorities,  and 
powers  being  made  subject  unto  him. 


ISi  hall's  scripture  history. 


29.— THE  DEATH  OF  SAUL. 

What  a  striking  difference  do  we  behold  in  the  his- 
tory of  individuals  and  of  nations,  as  it  pleases  Divine 
justice  to  prosper  or  to  punish  !  When  the  Philistines 
set  themselves  in  array  against  God  a  stripling  can  be 
the  occasion  of  their  discomfiture — when  they  fight  the 
Lord's  battles,  by  arming  against  sacrilegious  tyranny, 
the  presence  of  a  powerful  monarch,  or  even  of  the  ark 
itself,  gives  no  security  to  Israel.  Then  "  the  Lord 
breaketh  in  pieces  the  staff  of  the  ungodly  and  the  scep- 
tre of  the  rulers.  The  man  who  smote  the  people  in 
wrath  with  a  continual  stroke,  the  oppressor,  who  ruled 
the  nations  in  anger,  is  persecuted,  and  none  hindereth." 

The  prediction  of  Endor  had  almost  slain  Saul  before 
the  battle.  He  had  forsaken  the  Lord — he  had  held  com- 
munion with  demons — he  had  received  his  last  morsel 
at  the  hand  of  a  sorceress — and  now  necessity  draws 
him  into  that  field  where  he  sees  nothing  but  death 
and  despair.  The  prophecy  of  the  counterfeit  Samuel 
sunk  into  the  heart  of  the  apostate  monarch.  Those  fa- 
tal words  have  already  stricken  him  to  the  ground.  He 
expects,  in  horror  and  consternation,  the  doom  which, 
however  denounced,  he  is  too  conscious  of  having  de- 
served. While  the  mind  is  uncertain  of  success,  it  re- 
lieves itself  by  the  probability  of  good — even  in  less 
promising  circumstances,  there  is  some  mixture  of 
hope.  Thus  far  the  spirit  of  a  man  may  sustain  his  in- 
firmities; but  a  wounded  spirit  who  can  bear  1  Not  a 
ray  of  light  penetrates  through  the  gloom — the  waters 
overwhelm  the  despairing  sufferer,  and  the  stream  goetli 
over  his  soul.  The  wages  of  sin  is  death ;  while  the  gift 
of  God  is  eternal  life,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 

It  is  probable  that  the  same  moment  saw  David  vic- 
torious over  the  Amalekiles,  and  Saul  defeated  by  the 


THE    DEATH    OF    SAUL.  135 

Philistines.  David  consulted  with  God,  and  prevailed — 
Saul  with  the  powers  of  darkness,  and  perished.  The 
effect  is  proportionate  to  its  cause — the  end  corres- 
ponds with  the  means  which  led  to  it.  "  I  call  heaven 
and  earth  to  record  against  you,"  saith  the  voice  of 
God,  "  that  I  have  set  before  you  life  and  death,  bless- 
ing and  cursing.  Have  I  any  pleasure  at  all  in  tiie  death 
of  him  that  diethl" 

The  slaughter  of  Saul  and  of  his  sons  did  not  take 
place  in  the  commencement  of  this  tragedy — these  sad 
events  were  reserved  for  its  awful  close.  First,  the  peo- 
ple fly,  and  fall  down  wounded  on  Mount  Gilboa — next, 
the  sons  of  Saul  are  numbered  with  the  slain.  Death 
knows  no  partial  distinctions — even  Jonathan  himself  is 
involved  in  the  common  destruction.  If  valor,  if  holiness, 
if  sincerity  of  heart  could  have  averted  the  fatal  blow, 
Jonathan  would  have  survived — the  son  of  Saul  would 
have  lived  to  share  in  the  prosperity  of  the  son  of  Jesse — • 
to  rejoice  in  his  possession  of  a  throne  to  which  him- 
self made  no  pretensions,  the  rival  of  David  only  in 
friendship  and  in  virtue.  God  willed  it  otherwise — he 
had  brighter  rewards  in  store  for  that  illustrious  youth 
than  an  earthly  diadem.  The  arrows  of  the  Philistines 
dismiss  the  royal  Jonathan  to  a  more  exceeding  weight 
of  glory  than  that  v.'hich  he  relinqnished  to  tlie  brother 
of  his  love. 

Meanwhile  the  miserable  Saul  beholds  his  legions 
scattered,  his  children  lifeless,  his  enemies  triumphant, 
his  honor  prostrate  in  the  dust.  Wounded  in  body  and 
desperate  in  mind,  he  sees  nothing  before  him  but  agony 
and  death — and  now,  destitute  of  all  hope,  he  requests 
that  blow  at  the  hand  of  his  armor-bearer  which  his  in- 
dignant spirit  disdained  to  receive  from  a  Philistine. 
He  asks,  but  he  is  denied — no  entreaty,  no  extremity 
can  move  the  arm  of  that  faithful  servant  against  his 
lord.    Had  the  unhappy  monarch  shunned  the  reality 


13^  hall's  scripture  history. 

of  sin  as  carefully  as  the  appearance  of  dishonor,  his 
sun  had  never  set  in  blood — he  had  neither  lived  nor 
died  a  murderer. 

What  a  faithful  servant  refuses  to  execute,  his  own 
rash  hand  shall  accomplish.  Wicked  men  regard  the 
censure  of  the  world  more  than  the  peril  of  their  own 
souls.  What  if  Saul  had  died  by  the  hand  of  a  Philis- 
tine 1  Jonathan  his  son  did  so — and  yet  he  died  with 
glory.  The  carnal  heart  fixes  an  idea  of  shame  to  what 
is  in  itself  either  innocent  or  indifferent ;  and  for  the 
sake  of  idle  popularity  scruples  not  to  commit  actions 
prejudicial  to  dearer  and  better  interests. 

Now  is  the  blood  of  the  innocent  priests  and  the  me- 
ditated slaughter  of  David  required  at  the  hands  of  the 
tyrant.  From  the  beginning  of  his  defection  to  this  last 
act  of  violence  he  was  an  enemy  to  himself  and  to  his 
God.  His  death  corresponds  with  his  life — his  own  arm 
pays  him  the  reward  of  all  his  v/ickedness. 

As  yet  his  spirit  lingers,  and  seems  reluctant  to  de- 
part from  its  earthly  associate.  His  armor-bearer  has 
more  successfully  imitated  the  desperate  act  of  his  lord, 
and  is  no  more.  Saul  yet  breathes,  and  drinks  to  the 
dregs  the  cup  of  fury.  Chance  brings  an  Amalekite  to 
the  scene  of  his  sufferings — and  he,  v.  ho  had  been  once 
called  and  anointed  by  God,  the  pride  and  hope  of  Israel, 
the  terror  of  their  enemie.-,  the  conqueror  of  Ammon, 
Amalek  and  Philistia,  receives  his  last  blow,  at  his  own 
impassioned  request,  from  a  wayfaring  stranger.  "  Know- 
est  thou  not  this  of  old,  since  man  was  placed  upon 
earth,  that  the  triumphing  of  the  wicked  is  short,  and 
the  joy  of  the  hypocrite  is  but  for  a  moment  1  Though 
his  excellency  mount  up  to  the  heavens,  and  his  head 
reach  unto  the  clouds,  yet  he  shall  fly  away  as  a  dream, 
and  shall  not  be  found — he  shall  be  chased  away  as  a 
vision  of  the  night.  The  eye  also  which  saw  him  shall 
see  him  no  more,  neither  shall  his  place  any  more  be- 


THE    DEATH    OF    SAUL.  137 

hold  him.  lie  shall  flee  from  the  iron  weapon,  and  the 
bow  of  steel  shall  strike  him  through.  It  is  drawn,  and 
cometh  out  of  his  body,  yea,  the  glittering  sword  passeth 
through  his  heart.  Terrors  are  upon  him.  The  heavens 
shall  reveal  his  iniquity,  and  the  earth  shall  rise  up 
against  him.  This  is  the  portion  of  a  wicked  man  from 
God,  and  the  heritage  appointed  him  by  the  Almighty." 

Common  rumor  had  already  fixed  on  David  as  the 
anointed  heir  to  the  kingdom  of  Israel — to  be  the  first 
bearer  of  news  so  grateful  as  the  death  of  Saul — to  lay 
the  ensigns  of  royalty  at  the  feet  of  his  successor — to 
be  entitled  to  the  reward,  not  merely  of  a  messenger 
of  glad  tidings,  but  of  one  whose  hand,  in  destroying  a 
tyrant,  had  done  good  service  to  the  state :  what  splen- 
did prospects  for  an  Amalekite!  '^I  am  the  man  to 
whom  David  owes  his  kingdom,  I  am  the  author  of  his 
deliverance  and  his  happiness."  A  mind  wherein  self- 
love  rules  with  absolute  dominion,  is  unable  to  compre- 
hend the  emotions  of  a  generous  heart. 

How  is  this  alien  disappointed  of  his  hopes,  when  he 
finds  his  tidings  the  occasion  of  fasting,  and  weeping, 
and  mourning  !  when  that  voice,  half  stifled  with  tears, 
calls  him  to  account  for  the  murder,  instead  of  ac- 
knowledging his  merits!  Doubtless  the  stranger  plead- 
ed for  himself  with  fair  plausible  arguments.  ''Alas, 
Saul  was  already  fallen  upon  his  own  spear — it  was 
mercy  to  shorten  his  sufferings — his  importunate  pray- 
ers moved  me  to  hasten  his  approach  to  the  gates  of 
death.  Had  I  stricken  him  as  an  enemy,  I  had  perhaps 
deserved  the  censure,  but  the  blow  was  that  of  a  friend. 
Why  am  I  regarded  with  horror  for  obeying  the  voice 
of  a  kingl  for  perfecting  what  himself  had  begun,  but 
could  not  finish!  If  neither  his  own  wound  or  mine 
had  dispatched  him,  the  Philistines  were  at  hand,  ready 
to  do  that  with  insult  which  I  did  in  favor.  Had  not 
my  arm  anticipated  theirs,  where  had  been  the  crown 


138 

of  Israel  which  I  have  presented  to  thee  1  I  could  have 
delivered  it  to  Achish,  king  of  the  Philistines,  and  have 
been  rewarded  with  honor.  Let  me  not  die  for  an  act 
well  meant  to  thee,  however  unkindly  misinterpreted  !" 
But  all  these  excuses  avail  not  to  his  deliverance. 
"  Thy  blood  be  upon  thine  own  head,  for  thy  mouth 
hath  testified  against  thee,  saying,  I  have  slain  the  Lord's 
anointed.  Every  drop  of  royal  blood  is  sacred,  and  he 
who  sheds  it  is  accursed  of  God  and  man."  Of  how 
difTerent  a  spirit  from  this  of  David  are  those  men  who 
suborn  the  death  of  princes,  and  justify  the  atrocious 
act,  and  celebrate  and  canonize  their  murderers!  "O 
my  soul,  come  not  thou  into  their  secret — unto  their 
assembly,  rnine  honor,  be  not  thou  united!" 


30.— NATHAN  AND  DAVID. 

With  what  terror  and  amazement,  O  God,  do  we  con- 
template the  transgression  of  thine  anointed  servant  1 
What  an  universal  example  doth  his  sin  and  his  repent- 
ance afford  to  mankind !  What  an  awful,  instructive 
lesson,  that  we  should  never  be  led  astray  by  presump- 
tion or  despair!  Both  are  excluded  by  the  crime  and 
by  the  contrition  of  David.  When  we  see  so  great  a 
saint  thus  fallen,  thus  risen,  we  cannot  but  be  sensible 
of  our  own  infirmities,  and  the  transcendent  mercy  of 
our  God. 

Now  the  king  of  Israel  is  in  undisturbed  possession 
of  his  dear  bought  spouse.  The  brave  and  faithful  Uriah 
lives  no  longer.  The  splendor  of  royalty  has  soon  dried 
up  the  tears  of  his  perfidious  widow.  But  the  just  and 
holy  God  will  not  suffer  his  name  to  be  thus  profaned 


NATHAN    AND    DAVID.  139 

among  his  people — he  will  not  have  occasion  given  to 
his  enemies  to  blaspheme,  without  severely  punishing 
the  oflender.  As  that  offender  is  more  dear  to  him,  the 
sin  becornes  more  heinous,  more  aggravated.  David, 
who  has  been  lost  in  a  lethargy  of  guilt,  shall  be  sud- 
denly awakened  by  the  terrors  of  the  Lord. 

If  any  superiority  of  condition  could  have  afforded  a 
privilege  from  sin,  the  angels  had  not  transgressed  in 
heaven,  nor  Adam  in  paradise,  nor  David  on  the  throne 
of  Israel.  Yet,  alas !  what  language  can  palliate  crimes 
of  so  deep  a  die,  or  plead  in  excuse  for  the  insensibility 
which  followed  1  Though  some  transient  remorse  might 
have  affected  his  soul,  we  hear  of  no  effectual  repent- 
ance till  a  faithful  monitor  is  sent,  by  Divine  appoint- 
ment, to  call  the  deluded  monarch  from  the  error  of  his 
ways.  Perhaps,  had  the  precious  balm  been  longer  with- 
holden,  David's  wretched  impenitence  would  have  been 
protracted.  But  blessed  be  the  wisdom  and  mercy  of 
God,  who  out  of  evil  can  produce  good — who  can  bring 
light  itself  out  of  darkness !  This  one  sin  shall  be  the 
means  of  preventing  millions.  How  many  would  have 
fallen  in  a  vain  reliance  on  their  own  strength,  if  David 
had  not  offended  !  How  many  would  have  been  despe- 
rate in  the  consciousness  of  their  own  guilt,  if  David 
had  not  received  assurances  of  pardon  ! 

While  Nathan  complains  of  the  cruel  rich  man  who 
had  forcibly  taken  away  the  only  lamb  of  his  poor  neigh- 
bor, David  eagerly  listens  to  the  storj'.  With  a  rigor 
which  no  laws  could  justify,  he  pronounces  sentence 
against  the  offender.  Here  was  no  murder — no  adultery, 
yet  the  blood  of  the  imaginary  tyrant  must  atone  for  his 
unfeeling  cruelty.  Little  did  the  king  suppose  that  he 
had  uttered  these  menaces  against  himself.  We  have 
open  ears  to  the  crimes  of  others,  we  are  deaf  and  in- 
sensible to  our  own  ;  in  the  one  case,  rigorous  judges — 
in  the  other,  obsequious  parasites. 


140  hall's    SCRirXURE    HISTORY. 

The  life  of  doctrine  is  in  the  application.  When  the 
prophet  brings  the  word  home  to  the  bosom  of  David 
lie  cannot  but  be  sensibly  afTected.  "  Thou  art  the  manJ'^ 
Though  David  be  a  king,  he  shall  hear  of  his  faults; 
God's  messages  are  always  impartial.  To  regard  great- 
ness on  these  occasions  is  treacherous  flattery.  The 
ambassadors  of  Christ  must  be  gentle  in  the  form,  but 
in  the  matter  of  reproof  resolute.  They  are  the  heralds 
of  the  King  of  heaven ;  they  proclaim  his  will  to  man- 
kind— "  Thus  saith  the  Lord  God  of  Israel." 

The  heart  of  David  is  not  able  to  withstand  the  mes- 
sage of  God.  Confounded  and  self-condemned,  he  cries 
out  in  the  bitterness  of  a  contrite  heart,  "  I  have  sinned 
against  the  Lord !"  The  word  was  short,  but  earnest 
and  passionate — it  came  from  the  bottom  of  a  penitent 
soul.  God  cares  not  for  studied  phrases,  but  sincerity 
and  aflection  ;  the  deepest  sorrow  is  not  that  which  is 
loudest  or  most  loquacious. 

The  first  step  towards  repentance  is  the  confession 
of  guilt.  '^  I  have  acknowledged  my  sin  unto  thee,  O 
my  God,  and  mine  unrighteousness  have  I  not  hid."  No 
sooner  doth  David  say  to  the  prophet,  "  I  have  sinned 
aoainst  the  Lord,"  than  he  receives  the  comfortable  as- 
surance,  "  The  Lord  hath  put  away  thy  sin."  He  that 
covereth  his  transgressions  shall  not  prosper,  but  he 
that  confesseth  and  forsaketh  them  shall  have  mercy. 
Who  would  not  accuse  himself,  to  be  acquitted  by  Godl 
Who  would  not  declare  his  sin  to  the  Searcher  of  hearts, 
to  be  relieved  from  that  anguish  of  spirit  which  it  is 
death  to  conceal  1  If  we  have  ofTended,  why  should  we 
hesitate  to  perform  that  duty  which  shall  at  once  give 
glory  to  our  Maker  and  bring  consolation  to  our  souls  1 

David  had  sworn,  in  a  zeal  for  justice,  that  the  rich 
oppressor,  for  taking  his  poor  neighbor's  lamb,  should 
die  the  death.  God  is  more  favorable  to  David  than  to 
judge  him  out  of  his  own  mouth.    "  Thou  shalt  not  die.'* 


NATHAN    AND    DAVID.  HI 

0  the  wonders  of  redeeming  love!  The  letter  of  the 
law  demanded  eye  for  eye,  tooth  for  tooth,  blood  far 
blood  ;  but  (as  if  a  penitent  confession  had  dispensed 
with  the  rigor  of  justice)  God  saith,  ^'  Thou  shall  not 
die."  David  was  the  voice  of  the  laii\  awarding  death 
nnto  sin:  Nathan  was  the  voice  of  the  Gospel,  awarding 
life  unto  repentance.  ''  Come  unto  me,"  saith  the  Savior 
of  mankind,  '*  all  ye  that  labor,  and  are  heavy  laden,  and 

1  will  give  j'ou  rest.  Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn 
of  me — my  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burden  is  light." 

David  himself  shall  not  die  for  his  transgression,  but 
he  shall  be  deprived  of  the  son  of  his  adultery;  the 
sword  shall  not  depart  from  his  house  ;  he  shall  expe- 
rience ingratitude  and  disaffection  from  his  friends  and 
from  his  children  ;  he  shall  afford  an  example  to  future 
ages  that  God  can  grant  absolution,  and  yet  reserve  his 
full  right  to  inflict  temporal  punishment  for  sin.  Where 
he  has  forgiven  he  may  yet  chastise  ;  he  does  not  for- 
bear present  correction,  though  he  remits  the  future  tre- 
mendous sentence.  While  he  smites  us  not  for  our  of- 
fences as  an  angry  Judge,  we  may  endure  to  smart  at 
the  will  of  a  loving  Father. 

Yet  even  this  infliction  David  deprecates  with  tears. 
The  child  is  sick  ;  the  parent  fasts,  and  prays,  and  weeps, 
and  lies  all  night  upon  the  earth,  and  is  deaf  to  the  voice 
of  comfort.  He  mourns — he  sues  that  the  monument 
of  his  sin  and  the  record  of  his  shame,  for  whom  he  still 
entertained  all  the  fondest  sentiments  of  affection,  misht 
even  yet  be  preserved  to  him.  No  doubt  his  grief  was 
aggravated  by  the  thought  that  God,  to  chastise  the 
guiky  father,  was  about  to  deprive  him  of  his  innocent 
child  ;  while  the  cheering  reflection  that  the  gates  of 
heaven  would  receive  the  unpolluted  spirit  which  was 
hastening  thither,  seems  for  the  moment  to  have  been 
hidden  from  his  eyes.  Against  this  stroke  he  offers  his 
prayers— he  lifts  up  his  soul  to  the  throne  of  mercy. 


142  hull's  scriptuhe  history. 

No  chastening  is  joyous,  but  grievous ;  the  best  riaturo 
cannot  yield  to  it  without  some  degree  of  reluctance. 
Far  v/as  it,  nevertheless,  from  the  heart  of  David  to  form 
any  undue  opposition  to  the  will  of  God;  he  made  use, 
not  of  murmurs,  but  supplications.  There  is  no  impa- 
tience in  entreaties.  He  well  knew  that  the  Divine  threat- 
cnings  were  not  so  denounced  as  to  be  incapable  of  re- 
vocation. If  any  means  under  heaven  can  avert  judg- 
ments, it  is  the  prayer  of  faith. 

But  neither  faith  nor  prayer  can  preserve  a  feeble  mor- 
tal from  all  temporal  afflictions.  Since  the  admission  of 
sin  into  the  world,  the  decree  is  gone  forth,  and  ''  man 
is  born  to  trouble."  David  must  drink  deeply  of  the  cup 
of  sorrow — the  infant  is  no  more. 

His  anxious  attendants  only  whisper  this  sad  news; 
they  had  witnessed  the  sufferings  of  their  lord,  they  now 
look  for  all  the  paroxysms  of  frantic  grief.  This  very 
secresy  proclaims  to  the  vigilant  ear  of  suspicion  the 
sad  truth  which  they  trembled  to  utter.  David  perceives 
that  his  child  is  dead  :  and  now  he  rises  up  from  the 
earth  on  which  he  lay,  and  changes  his  apparel,  and 
goes  first  into  the  house  of  the  Lord  to  worship,  and 
then  into  his  own  to  eat — now  he  refuses  not  to  listen 
to  the  voice  of  comfort.  Till  we  know  the  determina- 
tion of  God,  it  is  lawful  for  us  to  be  importunate  in  our 
prayers;  when  the  event  has  taken  place,  he  demands 
our  duteous  resignation. 

"  While  the  child  lived,  I  fasted  and  Avept ;  for  I  said, 
Who  can  tell  whether  God  will  be  gracious  to  me,  that 
the  child  may  live  1  But  now  he  is  dead,  wherefore 
should  I  fast  1  can  I  bring  him  back  again  1  I  shall  go 
to  him,  but  he  shall  not  return  to  me !"  There  spake 
the  voice  of  faith  and  hope.  David  knew  that  those 
aflections  which  God  hath  implanted  in  the  soul  would, 
like  that  soul,  survive  the  body.  He  knew  that  a  day 
would  come  when  he  should  rejoin  his  child,  to  be  se- 


THE    CONSriRACY    OF    ABSALOM.  Ii3 

parateJ  from  him  no  more.  He  knew  that  his  sincere 
repentance  entitled  him  to  look  for  a  reception  in  those 
heavenly  mansions  to  which  innocence  itself  is  trans- 
lated. "  Turn  ye  unto  me,  from  whom  ye  have  deeply 
revolted — cease  to  do  evil — learn  to  do  well.  Let  the 
wicked  forsake  his  way,  and  the  unrighteous  man  his 
thoughts,  and  let  him  return  unto  the  Lord,  and  he  will 
have  mercy  upon  him — and  to  our  God,  for  he  will 
abundantly  pardon !" 


3L— THE  CONSPIRACY  OF  ABSALOM. 

When  the  son  of  Jesse  (in  the  calamities  of  his  early 
life)  wandered  in  the  wilderness,  an  exile,  a  fugitive, 
his  safety  every  hour  endangered  by  the  machinations 
of  Saul,  there  was  peace  in  his  soul.  In  the  afflictions 
of  his  later  days  he  feels  the  torture  pf  a  self-reprov- 
ing conscience.  His  future  pardon  is  promised,  but  not 
without  his  present  suffering.  In  the  heinous  offenco 
of  Amnon,  in  the  subsequent  murder  of  the  guilty  prince, 
in  the  dissimulation  by  which  that  murder  was  effected, 
the  unhappy  father  reads  his  own  transgressions.  The 
sting  o(  sorroWj  as  well  as  o[  death,  is  sin. 

Yet  these  are  the  beginnings  of  wo.  Other  chastise- 
ment is  in  store  for  the  king  of  Israel.  He  must  expe- 
rience the  utmost  extreme  of  earthly  misery — he  must 
meet  with  the  blackest  ingratitude  from  the  object  of 
his  fond  affection. 

The  tears  of  David  for  the  irrecoverable  loss  of  his 
first-born  now  fall  no  longer — he  comforts  himself  con- 
cerning Amnon,  and  begins  to  feel  a  degree  of  impa- 
tience for  the  return  of  Absalom.    The  long  absence  of 


14-i  HALLOS    SCRIPTURE    HISTORY. 

that  darling  son  was  more  a  punishment  to  the  king 
than  to  the  prince.  Joab  perceives  the  wishes  of  his 
lord,  and  artfully  inclines  him  to  their  accomplishment. 
A  woman  of  Tekoa  personates  a  mourner,  and,  while 
she  speaks  of  the  loss  of  one  child  and  the  danger  of 
another,  excites  in  David  compassion  for  himself  and 
favor  to  his  banished  son.  A  parable  taught  him  to  re- 
pent— a  parable  teaches  him  to  forgive. 

Now  Joab  speeds  to  Geshur.  The  exiled  prince  shall 
return  to  Jerusalem  ;  but  as  yet  he  is  not  admitted  into 
the  presence  of  his  father.  David's  excessive  lenity  had 
already  occasioned  him  the  bitterest  sorrows — he  now 
assumes  a  severity  of  temper  he  cannot  feel.  "  Let  him 
go  to  his  own  house,  but  let  him  not  see  my  face." 

Two  years  is  Absalom  thus  excluded  from  all  inter- 
course with  his  parent.  At  last  his  impatient  spirit  can 
bear  this  absence  no  longer  He  sends  for  Joab,  the  so- 
licitor of  his  return — he  requests  instant  death  or  un- 
conditional pardon  from  his  father.  Perhaps  his  heart 
was  not  yet  corrupted — or  perhaps  even  now  the  deep- 
laid  stratagem  was  forming  which  afterwards  brought 
down  ruin  on  his  head.  '^  Let  me  see  the  king's  face, 
and  if  there  be  iniquity  in  me,  kill  me  !"  Either  banish- 
ment or  death  seemed  more  tolerable  to  him  than  these 
public  tokens  of  the  royal  displeasure. 

What  a  torment  shall  it  be  to  the  wicked  to  be  ex- 
cluded from  the  presence  of  God  without  hope  of  re- 
covery !  Absalom  will  not  live  unless  he  beholds  the 
face  of  that  father  whom  afterwards  he  most  unnatural- 
ly sought  to  destroy.  God  is  the  Father  of  spirits,  with- 
out whom  there  can  be  no  life,  no  being.  To  be  exiled 
from  Him  is  eternal  death,  eternal  misery.  If  in  thy 
presence,  0  God,  is  the  fulness  of  joy,  in  thine  absence 
must  be  the  fulness  of  anguish  and  horror.  0  hide  not 
thy  face  from  us,  but  show  us  the  light  of  thy  counte- 
nance, that  we  may  live  and  declare  thy  praise ! 


THE    CONSPIRACY    OF    AESALOM.  145 

The  impatience  of  Absalom  pleads  his  cause  with  a 
fond  parent — it  seems  to  demonstrate,  beyond  all  doubt, 
the  ardor  of  his  filial  affection.  Long  had  David  been 
weary  of  his  displeasure — at  length  he  receives  his  son 
into  his  favor,  and  seals  his  pardon  with  a  kiss  of  ten- 
derness. Earthly  parents  know  not  how  to  retain  ever- 
lasting anger  towards  their  offspring,  how  much  less 
shall  the  God  of  mercies  be  irreconcileably  displeased 
with  his  own,  and  suffer  his  indignation  to  burn  like 
fire  which  cannot  be  quenched  1  He  will  not  always 
chide,  neither  keepeth  he  his  anger  for  ever.  His 
wrath  endureth  but  a  moment — in  his  favor  is  life — 
heaviness  may  endure  for  a  night,  but  joy  cometh  in 
the  morning. 

Absalom  is  now  as  much  distinguished  for  greatness 
as  for  beauty.  Beauty  and  greatness  excite  his  pride, 
and  pride  occasions  his  ruin.  Ambitious  spirits  will  not 
rest  contented  with  moderate  prosperity.  Before  two 
years  are  expired  Absalom  frames  a  plot  of  most  atro- 
cious rebellion.  None  but  his  own  father  was  his  su- 
perior in  Israel ;  none  was  so  likely  as  himself,  in  all 
human  probability,  to  succeed  his  father.  If  his  turbu- 
lent mind  could  have  been  restrained  for  a  few  years, 
he  might  have  expected  that  by  succession  which  now 
he  sought  by  force.  An  aspiring  heart  is  always  impa- 
tient, and  holds  time  itself  an  enemy — thrusts  itself  im- 
portunately betwixt  the  hope  and  the  enjoyment.  Full 
of  labor  and  travail,  it  has  no  intermission  of  its  uneasi- 
ness till  it  hath  brought  forth  its  abortive  progeny.  O 
that  our  affections  were  as  eager  for  spiritual  and  hea- 
venly exaltation!  O  that  our  souls  were  equally  ambi- 
tious to  feel  the  weight  of  that  crown  of  glory  ! 

Outward  pomp,  unaccustomed  shows  of  magnificence 
are  wont  to  affect  the  light  minds  of  the  vulgar.  Absa- 
lom, therefore,  to  the  incomparable  graces  of  his  per- 
son adds  the  unusual  state  of  more  than  royal  dignity 

Script   Ilisl.  * 


146  hall's  sceipture  history. 

His  chariots  rattle  and  his  horses  trample  proudly  in 
the  streets.  Fifty  footmen  run  before  their  glittering 
master.  Jerusalem  resounds  with  the  praises  of  this 
glorious  prince,  and  all  are  dazzled  with  his  continual 
display  of  grandeur.  The  generous  David  suspects  no 
danger  from  this  studied  ostentation.  His  partial  love 
considers  all  this  splendor  as  expressive  of  joy  and 
thankfulness  5  as  designed  to  do  honor  to  their  recon- 
ciliation J  as  not  unbecoming  the  age,  the  rank,  the 
beauty,  the  virtues  of  Absalom. 

Having  thus  engaged  the  eyes  and  tongues  of  the 
people,  the  insidious  prince  lays  snares  for  their  hearts. 
He  rises  early  and  stands  beside  the  way  of  the  gate 
A.nbition  is  ever  vigilant  and  industrious — the  conde 
scension  of  Absalom  is  equal  to  his  greatness.  How 
gloriously  doth  the  prince  of  Israel  neglect  himself,  and 
prefer  the  care  of  justice  to  his  own  gratifications  !  His 
ear  is  open  to  all  who  petition,  all  who  complain  ;  there 
is  no  cause  which  he  flatters  not.  ''  See,  thy  matters 
are  good  and  right,  and  there  is  none  deputed  by  the 
king  to  hear  thee."  What  insinuations  could  be  more 
powerful  1  What  music  is  so  sweet  in  the  ear  of  the 
unstable  multitude,  as  to  hear  themselves  commended, 
their  governors  censured  \  Every  man  says,  '^  How 
gracious  a  prince  is  Absalom!  What  a  just  and  care- 
ful ruler  would  Absalom  be  %  How  happy  were  we,  if 
we  might  be  judged  by  Absalom.  These  qualities  which 
singly  exalt  a  character,  conspire  in  his :  beauty  of  per- 
son, magnificence  of  state,  gracious  affability,  unwearied 
diligence,  humility  in  the  midst  of  grandeur,  the  ten- 
derest  pity,  the  most  ardent  love  of  justice,  the  most 
anxious  care  for  the  general  welfare  !" 

Thus  the  hearts  of  the  people  are  not  won^  but  stolen 
by  a  false  traitor  from  their  lawful  sovereign.  Nothing 
was  wanting  but  a  cloak  of  religion  to  complete  the 
treachery  of  that   ungracious   son,  whose  words  were 


THE    CONSPIRACY    OF    ABSALOM.  147 

peaceable,  while  war  was  in  his  heart.  How  easily  is 
this  also  assumed  !  Absalom  has  a  holy  vow  in  Hebron. 
The  devout  man  made  it  long  since  in  Syria,  and  now 
hastens  to  perform  it.  ''  If  the  Lord  shall  bring  me 
back  again  to  Jerusalem,  then  will  I  serve  the  Lord.'' 
Hypocrites  scruple  not  to  profane  the  name  and  the 
worship  of  God  himself  in  the  accomplishment  of  their 
sacrilegious  purpose. 

How  glad  is  the  good  old  king  that  he  is  blessed  with 
so  pious  a  son!  How  does  he,  at  Absalom's  departure, 
implore  the  favor  of  heaven  on  his  designs  !  The  clouds 
of  rebellion  have  long  been  gathering,  at  last  they  burst 
in  all  their  fury  over  the  astonished  father. 

With  a  heavy  heart,  his  head  covered,  dissolved  in 
tears,  clothed  in  sackcloth,  David  retires  from  Jeru- 
salem. Never  did  any  sorrow,  but  that  of  his  sacred 
and  innocent  Descendant,  approach  to  his  sorrow.  How 
could  he  but  weep,  when  the  barbarous  insurrection  of 
a  too  dearly  beloved  child  drove  him  from  his  house, 
from  his  throne,  from  the  ark  of  his  God  ]  Shimei  fol- 
lows him  with  curses  j  Ahithophel,  his  once  faithful 
counsellor,  forsakes  and  betrays  him;  Absalom,  in- 
vested with  the  royal  purple,  pursues  his  life  with  im- 
placable hatred;  and  the  moment  is  come  when  the 
issue  of  a  battle  must  decide  whether  David  perish  in 
his  own  person  or  in  that  of  his  son. 

''I  said.  Lord,  be  merciful  unto  me,  heal  my  soul,  for 
I  have  sinned  against  thee.  All  mine  enemies  whisper 
together  against  me,  against  me  do  they  imagine  this 
evil.  Let  the  sentence  of  guiltiness  proceed  against  him  ; 
and  now  that  he  lieth,  let  him  rise  up  no  more!  Yea, 
even  mine  own  familiar  friend  in  whom  I  trusted,  who 
did  also  eat  of  my  bread,  hath  laid  wait  for  me.  O  thou 
God  of  my  strength,  why  hast  thou  forgotten  me  1  Why 
go  I  thus  heavily  while  mine  enemies  oppress  me — 
while  they  say  daily  unto  me,  Where  is  now  thy  GodV^ 


lis  hall's  scripture  history. 

''Why  art  thou  cast  down,  O  my  soul  1  and  why  art 
thou  disquieted  within  me  1  Hope  thou  in  God,  for  I 
shall  yet  praise  Him,  who  is  the  health  of  my  counte- 
nance, and  my  God.'* 


32.— THE   DEATH    OF   ABSALOM. 

The  day  of  battle  is  come.  David,  who  had  formerly 
been  clad  in  armor  to  defend  himself  against  a  tyran- 
nous father-in-law,  must  now  seek  the  same  protection 
against  an  unnatural  son.  He  musters  his  soldiers,  ap- 
points his  commanders,  marshals  his  troops;  and  since 
their  loyal  importunity  will  not  suffer  him  to  hazard 
his  own  person,  encourages  them  with  his  eye,  and  re- 
strains them  with  his  tongue.  ''  Deal  gently  with  the 
young  man  Absalom,  for  my  sake."  O  holy  David, 
what  means  this  ill-placed  love,  this  unjust  mercy  1 
Deal  gently  with  a  traitor!  that  traitor  a  son  !  that  son 
an  Absalom  !  the  graceless  darling  of  so  good  a  father  ! 
and  this  for  thy  sake^  whose  crown  he  had  usurped, 
whose  blood  he  was  thirsting  after!  For  whose  sake 
should  Absalom  be  pursued,  if  he  is  spared  for  thine  1 
He  was  courteous  to  thy  followers — affable  and  plausi- 
ble to  all  Israel — cruel  and  implacable  only  to  thee. 
And  yet  thou  sayest,  "Deal  gently  with  the  young  man 
Absalom,  for  my  sake." 

O  perfect  type  of  that  ineffable  mercy  of  the  true 
King  and  Redeemer  of  Israel,  who  prayed  for  his  per- 
s'3Cutors,  for  his  murderers,  and,  while  they  were  at 
once  scorning  and  killing  him,  could  say,  "  Father, 
forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do  !"  If  we 
are  sons,  we  are  ungracious,  we  are  rebellious — but  still 


THE    DEATH    OF    ABSALOM.  149 

our  heavenly  Father  hath  compassion  upon  us — conti- 
nues that  life  to  us,  and  those  endowments  by  which 
we  provoke  him — and  bids  his  holy  angels  spare  us  and 
carry  us  in  their  arms.  O  the  depth  of  the  riches  of  the 
love  of  God  !  Flow  unutterable  is  his  goodness,  and  his 
love  past  finding  out ! 

The  battle  is  joined — David's  followers  are  only  a 
handful  in  comparison  with  those  of  Absalom.  But  what 
the  pious  king  wants  in  numbers  is  supplied  by  the  jus- 
tice of  his  cause.  The  sword  of  Absalom  is  unsheathed 
by  desperate  ambition — David's,  in  his  own  necessary 
and  just  defence.  By  faith  he  was  confident  of  victory  j 
by  faitk^  when  the  host  shouted  for  the  battle,  he  con- 
jured the  leaders  of  his  army  to  spare  his  son. 

They  who  had  at  first  followed  Absalom  in  their  sim- 
plicity cannot  now  persecute  his  father  in  malice.  With 
what  courage  could  any  Israelite  draw  his  sword  against 
David  1  On  the  contrary,  who  could  want  zeal  and 
alacrity  to  fight  for  a  righteous  king  and  father  against 
the  conspiracy  of  a  wicked  child  1  The  God  of  armies, 
who  at  his  pleasure  can  save  with  many  or  with  few, 
takes  part  with  justice,  and  lets  Israel  feel  what  it  is 
to  bear  arms  for  an  impious  usurper.  The  sword  devours 
them  by  thousands,  and  '^  the  wood  devours  more  than 
the  sword."  Let  no  man  hope  to  prosper  by  rebellion  ; 
the  very  trees,  and  thickets,  and  pits,  and  wild  beasts 
of  the  woods  shall  conspire  to  the  punishment  of  trai- 
tors. Among  the  rest,  a  fatal  oak  singles  out  the  leader 
of  this  vile  insurrection,  and  with  one  of  its  spreading 
arms  snatches  him  away  to  speedy  execution.  The 
beauty  of  Absalom  was  every  way  ruinous.  Those  tres- 
ses, which  once  hung  loosely  dishevelled  on  his  shoul- 
ders, now  support  the  weight  of  his  body,  and  make  his 
pride  his  torment.  Behold  him  suspended  between  hea- 
ven and  earth,  as  one  deservedly  abandoned  both  by 
God  and  man  !    As  if  the  Divine  justice  had  selected 


150  hall's  scripture  history. 

this  punishment  for  treason,  Absalom,  Ahithophel,  and 
Judas  all  die  the  same  death.  So  shall  they  perish  who 
lift  up  their  hands  against  the  Lord's  anointed ! 

A  soldier  passes  by  and  sees,  but  dares  not  strike  the 
rebellious  prince.  His  arm  was  restrained  by  the  public 
charge  of  David,  '^  Beware  that  none  touch  the  young 
man  Absalom."  Joab,  on  the  contrary,  when  he  hears 
the  tidings,  hastens  to  the  place,  and  without  hesitation 
fixes  his  javelin  in  the  offender's  heart.  His  zeal  accom- 
plishes what  the  soldier's  obedience  had  forborne.  He 
feared  not  to  prefer  the  safety  of  his  sovereign  to  his 
command — regarding  the  life  of  David  and  the  peace  of 
Israel  more  than  the  weak  affection  of  a  father.  That 
zeal  and  that  obedience  w^ere  both  deserving  of  praise — 
the  loyal  subject  equals  the  ardent  patriot — the  one  re- 
vered his  king,  the  other  loved  his  master,  and  by  that 
love  disobeyed.  All  Israel  did  not  afford  Absalom  so 
firm  a  friend  as  Joab  had  once  proved  himself.  He 
taught  the  woman  of  Tekoa  to  intercede  with  David  for 
his  recall,  after  his  three  years'  exile.  He  brought  him 
up  from  Geshur  to  Jerusalem.  He  led  him  into  the  pre- 
sence, into  the  arms  of  his  parent.  Yet  now  he  who  was 
his  solicitor  for  the  king's  favor,  is  his  executioner 
against  the  king's  charge.  He  now  forgot  that  he 
had  been  the  friend  of  one  ^vho  had  forgotten  that  he 
was  a  son. 

The  dart  of  Joab  is  seconded  by  the  weapons  of  his 
followers.  Absalom  dies  as  it  were  by  a  variety  of 
deaths.  The  hand  of  Divine  retribution  makes  his  crimes 
legible  in  his  punishment.  He  had  exalted  himself  against 
his  lawful  sovereign — he  had  pierced  his  father's  heart 
\vith  many  sorrows — he  had  caused  strife  and  division 
in  Israel.  If  by  the  law  of  Moses,  he  who  cursed  the  au- 
thors of  his  being  was  stoned  to  death,  how  justly  is  a 
heap  of  stones  cast  on  him  who  sought  to  imbrue  his 
impious  hands  in  a  parent's  blood  ! 


THE    DEATH    OF    ABSALO.'\I.  151 

Now  Joab  sounds  the  retreat,  and  calls  off  his  eager 
troops  from  execution.  He  knew  what  his  rebellious 
countrymen  had  deserved;  but  when  Absalom  is  no 
more,  mercy  shall  arrest  the  sword  of  justice.  The  gen- 
erous heart  can  distinguish  betwixt  the  leader  of  a  fac- 
tion and  the  misguided  multitude  ;  and  Can  pity  those 
who  are  deceived,  while  it  ordains  vengeance  to  their 
deceiver. 

The  proud  and  ambitious  Absalom  thought  it  would 
be  injustice  to  mankind  if  he  sufTered  the  memory  of  his 
grandeur  to  perish.  His  three  sons  died  in  early  infancy. 
That  he  might  supply  the  loss,  he  reared  a  stately  pillar 
in  the  king's  dale,  and  called  it  after  his  own  name,  to 
perpetuate  the  honor  of  Absalom.  Behold  this  curious 
pile  demolished,  and  a  ruinous  heap  thrown  over  his 
lifeless  body,  the  monument  of  his  rebellion  and  of  his 
shame  !  Hear  this,  ye  vain-glorious  boasters,  who  leave 
li6  memorial  behind  you  but  of  ill-deserved  greatness : 
who  teach  death  itself  the  language  of  adulation,  and 
who  enumerate  the  pompous  titles  which  shall  be  re- 
corded on  your  tombs!  The  best  of  this  affectation  is 
vanity;  the  worst  is  infamy  and  dishonor.  While  the 
memory  of  the  just  is  blessed ;  and  if  his  humility  re- 
fuse an  epitaph  and  retire  to  an  unnoticed  grave,  God 
himself  shall  write  his  name  upon  the  pillar  of  eternity. 

Absalom  is  dead — who  shall  report  it  to  his  father  1 
The  busy  Ahimaaz  offers  himself  to  be  the  messenger, 
and  will  not  be  dissuaded.  Joab  knew  David  too  Avell 
to  employ  a  friend  on  such  an  errand.  An  Ethiopian 
servant  was  fitter  to  bear  this  message  than  the  son  of 
the  priest.  Ahimaaz,  though  he  anticipate  the  arrival 
of  Cushi,  tells  only  of  the  victory  :  artfully  suppressing 
those  less  welcome  tidings  which  should  fill  his  mas- 
ter's heart  with  unutterable  anguish. 

David  inquires  not,  "  How  fares  the  host  V  but, ''  How 
fares  the  young  man  Absalom  1"  Like  a  wise  and  faith- 


152  HALLOS    SCRIPTURE    HISTORY. 

ful  messenger,  Cushi,  by  an  honest  insinuation,  reveals 
the  fatal  truth — ''  The  enemies  of  my  lord,  and  those 
that  seek  his  life  be  as  that  young  man  is  !" 

How  is  the  king  thunderstruck  with  the  word  of  his 
servant  1  How  is  he  bereaved  of  all  comfort,  and  regard- 
less of  existence  ?  "  O  my  son  Absalom,  my  son,  my  son 
Absalom,  would  God  I  had  died  for  thee,  O  Absalom, 
my  son,  my  son  !"  What  do  we  hear  1  that  he  whose  life 
was  esteemed  by  his  people  as  of  more  value  than  ten 
thousand  of  theirs,  should  be  exchanged  for  an  incestu- 
ous traitor  1  that  he  should  lay  down  his  life  for  a  par- 
ricide and  a  murderer  1  But  what  shall  we  say  to  thy 
love,  O  Savior  1  Thou  hast  said  to  thy  rebellious  chil- 
dren, "  I  am  the  good  Shepherd — the  good  Shepherd 
giveth  his  life  for  the  sheep — No  man  taketh  it  from 
me,  but  I  lay  it  down  of  myself."  O  love  infinite,  in- 
comprehensible, whereat  the  angels  of  heaven  are  amaz- 
ed, whereat  thy  saints  are  filled  with  transports  of  grati- 
tude !  For  scarcely  for  a  righteous  man  will  one  die — 
yet  peradventure  for  a  good  man  some  will  even  dare  to 
die — but  God  commendeth  his  love  to  us,  in  that,  while 
we  were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died  for  us.  He  hath  said, 
"  Deliver  them  from  going  down  to  the  pit — 1  have  found 
a  ransom."  Blessed  are  the  people,  O  Lord,  that  know 
the  joyful  sound — they  shall  hear,  and  delight  in  thy  sal- 
vation for  ever  and  ever. 


33.— S  O  L  0  M  0  N  . 

At  length  the  hour  approaches  which  must  put  a  pe- 
riod to  the  life  and  sorrows  of  David.  And  will  not  the 
towering  ambition  of  Adonijah  wait  till  the  throne  is 


SOLOMON.  153 

vacant,  before  he  sets  up  his  presumptuous  claim  1  Too 
nearly  resembling  Absalom  in  pride  and  ostentation,  he 
rushes  eagerly  into  the  crimes,  into  the  misfortunes  of 
his  brother.  He  too  ''  prepares  chariots  and  horsemen, 
and  fifty  men  to  run  before  him."  Absalom  and  Adoni- 
jah  were  the  darlings  of  their  father,  1  Kings,  1:6; 
from  their  childhood  they  had  known  no  rebuke,  no 
contradiction.  How  rarely  does  this  undue  partiality 
terminate  in  joy  !  Absalom  sought  the  life  of  David — 
Adonijah  now  grasps  at  his  crown. 

The  government  was  as  yet  in  the  immediate  appoint- 
ment of  God.  He  had  chosen  David  as  the  successor  of 
Saul — he  had  fixed  on  Solomon  to  supply  the  place  of 
David.  From  that  time  till  the  extinction  of  the  royal 
authority  in  Judah,  the  sceptre  passed  in  uninterrupted 
order  from  the  father  to  his  first-born  son. 

Meanwhile  Adonijah  wants  not  friends  to  support  his 
usurpation.  Abiathar  the  priest,  and  Joab  the  captain  of 
the  host,  the  once  faithful  adherents  to  David,  assist  the 
aspiring  prince  with  their  presence  and  counsels.  They 
had  shared  the  fortunes  of  their  sovereign  in  all  his  for- 
mer calamities — they  now  behold  him  on  the  bed  of  age 
and  death,  and  they  pay  their  homage  to  the  rising  sun. 
The  permanency  oi  friendships  as  well  as  happiness^  can- 
not be  ascertained  by  man  till  the  last  moments  of  his 
life.  When  we  can  no  longer  reward  or  punish,  then 
will  it  appear  who  loved  us  for  ourselves,  and  who  asso- 
ciated with  us  for  their  own  advantage. 

The  designation  of  Solomon  to  the  throne  was  made 
public  by  the  voice  of  Heaven.  God  had  sent  him  at 
his  birth  a  message  of  honor  and  love — had  promised 
him  the  privilege  of  building  a  temple  to  His  glory,  and 
the  establishment  of  his  throne  for  ever.  In  vain,  there- 
fore, does  Adonijah  frame  his  conspiracy — in  vain  does 
he  single  out  his  brother  as  the  object  of  indignity  and 
neglect.    In  the  decay  of  David's  body  his  intellectual 

7* 


IS-i  hall's  scripture  history. 

faculties  were  not  impaired.  "  As  the  Lord  liveth,  who 
hath  redeemed  my  soul  from  all  adversity,  Solomon  my 
son  shall  sit  on  my  throne  this  day."  From  the  bed  of 
sickness  he  steers  the  government  of  Israel  with  no  un- 
steady hand.  Instantly  he  gives  full  directions  for  the 
regal  inauguration  of  Solomon.  Zadok  the  priest,  and 
Nathan  the  prophet,  and  Benaiah,  a  w^arrior  of  unshaken 
fidelity,  are  commanded  to  take  with  them  the  royal 
guard,  to  place  Solomon  on  his  father's  mule,  to  carry 
him  down  in  state  to  Gihon,  to  anoint  him  with  the  ho- 
ly oil  of  the  tabernacle,  to  sound  the  trumpets  and  pro- 
claim him  in  the  streets,  to  bring  him  back  with  triumph 
and  magnificence  to  the  court,  and  to  set  him  on  the  roy- 
al throne  with  all  the  due  ceremonies  of  coronation. 

How  pleasing  w^as  this  command  to  them,  who  in 
Solomon's  glory  saw  their  own  security  !  Benaiah  ap- 
plauds it — and,  not  fearing  a  father's  envy,  in  David's 
presence  wishes  that  the  throne  of  Solomon  may  be 
exalted  above  that  of  David.  The  people  are  ravished 
with  joy  at  this  hopeful  succession,  and  rend  the  earth 
and  fill  the  heaven  with  the  noise  of  their  music  and 
shouting.  ''  God  save  the  king — Long  live  the  king — 
Let  the  king  live  for  ever !" 

The  feast  of  Adonijah,  which  began  in  presumption, 
terminates  in  horror.  The  ears  of  the  guests  are  sud- 
denly pierced  with  the  sound  of  those  trumpets  which 
at  once  proclaim  the  triumph  of  Solomon  and  their 
own  confusion.  Astonishment,  and  fearful  expectation 
of  vengeance  fill  their  souls :  and  when  the  son  of  Abia- 
thar  brings  more  certain  intelligence  of  their  disappoint- 
ment, every  heart  is  cold — every  face  pale — terror  gives 
wings  to  their  feet.  How  suddenly  is  this  daring  troop 
dispersed !  Adonijah,  their  aspiring  prince,  flies  to  the 
horns  of  the  altar — as  distrusting  all  hopes  of  life,  save 
those  which  he  rested  on  the  sanctity  of  the  place  and 
the  mercy  of  his  generous  rival. 


SOLOMON.  155 

Now  David  beholds  a  worthy  object  of  his  love  in 
peaceful  possession  of  the  throne  of  Israel — now  does 
he  charge  him  to  keep  the  commandments  of  God,  to 
take  heed  to  the  statutes,  and  walk  in  the  ways  of  the 
Almighty.  The  dying  prophet  exhorts  the  youthful 
monarch  to  exemplary  holiness — he  admonishes  him  to 
pay  due  allegiance  to  the  King  of  kings — he  gives  him 
the  weighty  charge  of  building  the  house  of  God — he 
lays  before  the  eyes  of  his  son  the  model  and  pattern 
of  that  sacred  work,  the  merit  of  which  belongs  to 
David  no  less  than  Solomon.  David  bestows  the  gold 
and  silver  for  this  holy  use — an  hundred  thousand  tal- 
ents of  gold — ten  times'as  much  silver — brass  and  iron 
beyond  all  weight.  David  excites  the  princes  oi  Israel 
to  give  their  assistance — takes  notice  of  their  bountiful 
offerings — numbers  the  Levites  and  sets  them  their  re- 
spective tasks.  Even  the  singers  and  musicians  are 
appointed  to  their  office  by  the  sweet  Psalmist  of  Israel. 
And  when  all  things  are  in  their  desired  order  and  due 
state  of  preparation,  he  blesses  Solomon  and  his  people, 
and  sleeps  with  his  fathers.  O  happy  soul,  how  quiet 
possession  hast  thou  taken,  after  so  many  tumults,  of  a 
better  crown!  Thou,  who  didst  prepare  all  things  for 
the  house  of  thy  God,  how  art  thou  welcomed  to  that 
glorious  tabernacle,  a  house  not  made  with  hands, 
eternal  in  the  heavens! 

Again  is  Solomon  crowned  the  sovereign  of  Israel — 
now  in  his  own  right,  as  formerly  in  his  father's,  he  sits 
upon  the  seat  of  David.  He  loves  the  Lord,  and  is  loved 
by  him.  The  wicked  are  taken  away  from  before  the 
king,  and  his  throne  is  established  in  righteousness. 

As  yet  the  high  places,  on  which  stood  a  variety  of 
altars,  were  frequented  both  by  the  people  and  the  king. 
Before  he  builds  the  temple  at  Jerusalem,  Solomon  goes 
up  to  Gibeon.  There  was  the  allowed  altar  of  Jehovah ; 
there  was  the  tabernacle,  though  the  ark  was  in  the  city 


156  hall's  scripture  history. 


of  David.  The  young  monarch,  desiring  to  begin  his 
reign  with  God,  offers  on  that  altar  no  less  than  a  thou- 
sand sacrifices. 

How  sweet  is  the  repose  of  true  piety  !  The  night 
cannot  but  be  happy  if  the  day  hath  been  holy.  Solomon 
lays  him  down  to  sleeps  and  lo,  he  sees  him  who  is  in- 
visible, and  hears  the  voice  of  a  merciful  God,  "Ask 
me  what  I  shall  give  thee."  We  cannot  be  so  liberal  to 
ourselves  as  by  our  oblations  to  the  Author  of  all  good. 
Though  the  cattle  on  a  thousand  hills  are  his  own,  he 
graciously  accepts  the  freewill  offering  of  his  servant. 
And  art  thou  less  bounteous,  0  God,  to  thy  poorest 
worshipper  under  the  Gospel,  than  thou  wast  to  the 
prince  of  Israel  1  Thou  hast  said,  "  Whatsoever  ye  shall 
ask  the  Father  in  my  name,  [  will  give  unto  you."  Let 
thy  merciful  ears  be  ever  open  to  the  prayer  of  thy  ser- 
vants; and  that  they  may  obtain  their  petitions,  make 
them  to  ask  such  things  as  shall  please  thee  ! 

There  needs  no  time  for  deliberation — the  waking 
thoughts  of  Solomon  had  been  intent  on  wisdom.  His 
heart  was  so  filled  with  the  love  and  admiration  of  that 
heavenly  gift  that  it  fastened  at  once  on  the  grace  it 
had  longed  for.  "  Give  thy  servant, an  understanding 
heart  to  judge  thy  people."  Had  not  Solomon  been 
already  distinguished  for  wisdom  he  would  have  been 
less  sensible  of  its  value — he  would  not  thus  have  pre- 
ferred it  in  his  desires — he  would  not  have  esteemed  it 
the  pearl  of  greatest  value  in  his  diadem.  Solomon  well 
knew  that  royalty  without  wisdom  would  be  only  pre- 
eminence of  infamy — that  life  itself  would  be  tedious 
and  power  unprofitable. 

The  king  of  Israel  awakes  and  finds  that  his  dream 
was  divine  and  oracular.  Illumination  is  shed  over  his 
heart ;  he  feels  that  God  hath  given  him  a  new  soul. 
No  wonder  that  on  his  return  from  the  tabernacle  to  the 
ark  he  testifies  his  joy  and  thankfuhiess  by  burnt-offer- 


THE    TEMPLE.  157 

ings,  and  peace-oflerings,  and  public  feastings.  The 
heart  which  is  filled  with  a  sense  of  the  presence  and 
favor  of  God,  cannot  refrain  itself  from  the  outward 
expression  of  gratitude.  ''  God  is  the  Lord  who  hath 
showed  us  light — bind  the  sacrifice  with  cords,  even 
unto  the  horns  of  the  altar  !  Thou  art  my  God,  and  I 
will  praise  thee ;  thou  art  my  God,  I  will  exalt  thee." 


34.— THE  TEMPLE. 

Four  years  are  soon  elapsed  in  preparations  for  the 
house  of  God.  Solomon  avails  himself  of  the  exquisite 
art  of  the  Tyrians,  of  the  zeal  and  ardor  of  his  own 
people.  Hiram  procures  him  artificers  in  gold,  in  silk, 
in  purple  j  thirty  thousand  Israelites  in  their  courses 
hew  down  the  stately  cedars;  while  the  humble  Gibe- 
onites,  the  objects  of  Saul's  furious  and  unhallowed 
zeal,  (being  in  number  an  hundred  and  fifty  thousand,) 
are  employed  in  hewing  stones  and  bearing  burdens. 
None  are  so  mean  but  they  may  be  useful  in  their  call- 
ings:  even  less  honorable  services  are  equally  neces- 
sary. Let  us  but  labor  with  honest  alacrity,  and  God 
will  accept  our  industry  and  count  it  for  skill. 

The  temple  is  framed  in  Lebanon  and  set  up  in  Sion. 
Neither  hammers  nor  axes  are  heard  in  this  holy  struc- 
ture. There  was  nothing  but  noise  in  Lebanon  ;  nothing 
in  Sion  but  silence  and  peace.  Vv'hatcver  tumults  are 
abroad,  all  should  be  quietness  and  sweet  concord  in 
the  church.  0  God,  why  do  we  sufier  schism  and  fu- 
rious contention  to  be  heard  within  thy  sanctuary  1 
Lord,  knit  the  hearts  of  thy  servants  together  in  the 
unity  of  the  Spirit  and  the  bond  of  peace  ;  that  we  may 


158  hall's  scripture  history. 

mind  and  speak  the  same  things  ;  that  thou,  who  art 
the  God  of  peace,  mayst  take  pleasure  to  dwell  in  our 


souls ! 

Now  is  the  foundation  laid,  and  the  walls  are  rising  of 
that  glorious  fabric  which  all  nations  have  admired  and 
all  ages  celebrated.  Even  those  piles  which  were  laid 
on  the  base  of  the  building  were  not  rugged  and  rude, 
but  hewn  and  costly  ;  the  part  which  lies  covered  with 
earth  was  no  less  carefully  wrought  than  those  which 
are  more  conspicuous.  God  hath  delight  in  the  hidden 
value  of  his  spiritual  temple.  How  many  noble  graces 
of  his  servants  have  been  buried  in  obscurity — neglect- 
ed or  forgotten  by  men,  but  held  in  their  due  estima- 
tion in  the  sight  of  God  ! 

The  matter  of  this  splendid  frame  vies  with  its  pro- 
portion. Nothing  but  white  marble  is  seen  without, 
nothing  but  gold  and  cedar  within.  Upon  the  hill  of 
Sion  stands  that  snowy  fabric,  w^hich  both  invites  and 
dazzles  the  eye  of  the  passenger  afar  off.  God  admits 
of  nothing  that  is  not  pure  and  exquisite.  His  church 
consists  of  none  but  the  faithful.  He  dwelleth  only  in 
the  heart  which  is  devoted' to  his  fear. 

Thef(ishio7i  of  the  temple  corresponded  with  that  of 
the  tabernacle  in  the  wilderness — both  were  constructed 
under  the  same  heavenly  directions,  the  same  mystery 
w^as  shadowed  out  in  both.  But  the  one  was  framed  in 
the  state  of  Israel's  wanderings,  the  other  in  the  land 
of  promise — the  one  was  fitted  for  motion,  the  other  for 
rest — the  one  denoted  the  good  will  of  a  multitude,  the 
other  the  munificence  of  a  king. 

But  why  do  we  fasten  our  eyes  on  wood,  and  stone, 
and  metals  1  God  has  no  pleasure  in  these  for  their  own 
sake,  but  for  their  spiritual  signification.  Wherever  He 
is,  there  is  his  temple.  O  God,  thou  vouchsafest  to  dwell 
in  the  humble  and  contrite  heart — while  we  have  our 
being  in  thee,  thou  hast  thine  abode  in  us.    The  heaven 


THE    TEMPLE.  159 

of  heavens  is  not  able  to  contain  thee,  but  thou  dost 
not  despise  the  hallowed  mansion  of  a  regenerate  soul. 
In  the  heart  of  thy  faithful  servants,  in  the  church  of 
thy  saints  on  earth,  in  the  throne  of  thy  celestial  glory, 
thou  art  present,  and  abidest  for  ever.  All  these  were 
typified  by  thy  material  temple — it  had  its  porch,  its 
sanctuary,  its  holy  of  holies.  Yet  what  is  the  value  of 
this  assemblage  of  gold  and  marble  in  comparison  with 
the  living  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  is  our  body  1 
What  is  the  temple  of  tliis  body  of  ours  to  the  temple 
of  Christ's  body,  which  is  his  church  1  And  what  is  the 
temple  of  God's  church  on  earth,  to  that  which  triumphs 
gloriously  in  heaven] 

Lo,  in  the  outward  porch,  we  see  an  image  of  the 
christian  soul  entering  into  the  society  of  the  church — 
in  the  holy  place,  the  communion  of  the  true  visible 
church  on  earth  selected  from  the  world — ^in  the  holy 
of  holies,  whereintothe  high-priest  entered  once  a-year, 
the  glorious  heaven,  into  which  our  true  high-priest, 
Christ  Jesus,  entered  once  for  all,  to  make  atonement 
betwixt  God  and  man. 

In  all  these  there  is  the  most  perfect  correspondence, 
in  proportion,  in  matter,  in  situation. 

How  exquisite  di  symmetry  hast  thou  ordained,  O  God, 
betwixt  the  faithful  heart  and  thy  church  on  earth,  with 
that  in  heaven !  In  the  believing  soul  there  is  no  im- 
measurable height  of  pride,  nor  breadth  of  passion,  nor 
yet  the  absence  of  grace — in  the  militant  church,  a  ne- 
cessary inequality  without  disproportion,  its  govern- 
ment, its  extent,  its  jurisdiction  in  harmony  with  each 
other — in  the  church  triumphant,  eternity,  perfection, 
and  incomprehensible  glory. 

With  respect  to  the  materials^  all  were  most  excellent. 
The  wood  was  precious,  sweet,  lasting — the  stone,  beau- 
tiful, costly,  insensible  of  age — the  gold  pure  and  glit- 
tering.   So  perfect  are  the    graces  of  the  children  of 


160 

God — so  perfect  are  the  ordinances  of  his  church — so 
perfect  is  the  felicity  of  Iiis  glorified  saints. 

In  situation^  we  find  one  court  of  the  temple  open 
even  to  the  uncircumcised  and  unclean — another,  re- 
served for  the  children  of  Israel — a  third,  inaccessible 
but  to  the  tribe  of  Levi.  There  was  the  altar  for  sacri- 
fice— there  was  the  sea  of  brass  for  purification.  While 
in  the  covered  rooms  of  the  temple,  one  part  was  ap- 
propriated to  the  Levites — another  yet  more  holy,  to 
the  priests — the  holiest  of  all,  to  the  chosen  descendant 
and  representative  of  Aaron. 

If  from  the  walls  we  look  to  the  furniture,  still  every 
thing  is  typical  and  figurative.  What  is  the  altar  where- 
on our  sacrifices  of  prayer  and  praise  are  offered  to  the 
Almighty,  but  a  devout  and  contrite  soul  1  What  the 
golden  candlesticks,  but  the  understanding  illuminated 
by  grace,  wherein  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  God 
and  of  his  divine  will  shines  for  everl  Naj--,  if  we  pre- 
sume so  far  as  to  enter  into  the  holy  of  holies,  even 
there,  0  God,  do  we  find  our  unworthy  hearts  so  ho- 
nored by  thee,  that  they  are  made  as  the  very  ark  where 
thy  royal  law  and  thine  heavenly  manna  are  preserved 
for  ever :  there  do  we  behold  that  mercy- seat  from 
whence,  shaded  by  the  wings  of  the  glorious  cherubim, 
thou  givest  the  testimony  of  thy  good  Spirit  witnessing 
with  ours  that  we  are  the  children  of  God. 

Behold,  if  Solomon  built  a  temple  unto  thee,  thou  hast 
built  a  temple  to  thyself  in  us.  We  are  not  only  by  thy 
grace  parts  of  thy  spiritual  building,  but  are  ourselves 
living  temples  in  thy  Sion.  O  do  thou  ever  dwell  in  this 
thine  house,  and  there  let  us  ever  serve  thee  !  Where- 
fore hast  thou  a  temple  but  that  thou  mayst  be  present 
with  us,  and  that  we  may  show  forth  thy  praise  1  Once 
did  thine  ark  reside  \\\i\\  thy  people  in  tents,  ever 
changing  and  removing  from  place  to  place — then  didst 
thou  sojourn  in  Shiloh — afterwards  thou  didst  conde- 


THE    TEMrLE.  161 

scend  to  take  up  thine  abode  amongst  men,  and  to  dwell 
in  thine  own  house  at  thy  Jerusalem.  So  didst  thou  at  the 
beginning  hold  converse  with  the  patriarchs — so  didst 
ihoii  sojourn  with  Israel  under  the  law — but  now  under 
the  Gospel  dispensation  thou  dost  make  a  constant  re- 
sidence in  the  hearts  of  thy  grateful  children.  From 
thence  thou  wilt  depart  no  more — they  shall  be  sepa- 
rated from  the  world — they  shall  be  separated  from 
themselves — but  who  shall  separate  them  from  the  love 
and  from  the  presence  of  Christ  1 

Great  was  the  glory  of  the  first  temple — greater  still 
that  of  the  second.  Though  unequal  to  the  former  in 
outward  circumstances  of  splendor,  the  bringing  in  of  a 
better  hope  caused  the  ministration  of  righteousness  to 
exceed  in  glory.  "  Yet  once — it  is  a  little  while — and  I 
will  shake  all  nations — and  the  desire  of  all  nations  shall 
come — and  in  this  place  will  I  give  peace — and  I  will 
fill  this  house  with  glory,"  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts. 

Wheresoever  thou  art,  O  God,  thou  art  worthy  of 
adoration.  Since  thou  wilt  not  disdain  to  dwell  in 
us,  be  thou  ever  worshipped  in  us.  From  the  altars  of 
our  hearts  let  the  incense  of  holy  meditation,  of  fer- 
vent prayer,  of  cheerful  thanksgiving  ascend,  and  find 
acceptance.  Let  the  pure  lights  of  faith  and  godly 
conversation  shine  before  thee  and  before  men,  and 
never  be  extinguished.  Let  our  souls  be  refreshed  and 
strengthened  by  the  bread  of  life — let  us  treasure  up 
thy  sacred  laws,  and  the  unfading  promises  of  thy 
Gospel.  Speak  thou  comfortably  to  us  from  thy  mercy- 
seat,  thou  that  art  the  propitiation  for  our  sins.  Suffer 
nothing  to  enter  in  that  is  unclean.  Sanctify  us  to  thy- 
self, and  be  thou  ever  sanctified  in  us! 


162  hall's  scripture  history. 

35.— THE   QUEEN   OF    SHEBA. 

The  great  lights  of  heaven  are  not  intended  for  ob- 
scurity. The  fame  of  Solomon's  wisdom  is  diffused 
throughout  the  world — all  nations  are  fall  of  admiration 
and  praise.  Even  so,  O  thou  everlasting  King  of  peace, 
thy  name  is  great  among  the  heathen,  thy  sound  is  gone 
out  into  all  the  earth,  and  thy  words  unto  the  ends  of 
the  world.  Thou  art  a  light  to  lighten  the  Gentiles,  as 
well  as  the  glory  of  thy  people  Israel. 

No  doubt,  many  from  all  coasts  came  to  behold  this 
prodigy  of  wisdom.  Among  the  rest  a  sovereign  prin- 
cess, herself  distinguished  by  a  variety  of  endowments, 
travels  from  the  far-distant  seat  of  her  dominion  to  Jeru- 
salem, that  she  may  hear,  and  learn,  and  wonder.  Many 
are  known  to  cross  the  seas  from  motives  of  curiosity — 
some  few  philosophers  have  travelled  far  in  pursuit 
of  science — merchants  repair  to  foreign  climates  for 
wealth — and  princes  send  their  ambassadors  to  other 
regions  on  their  affairs  of  state — but  that  a  rich  and 
great  queen  should  travel  from  the  remote  Sheba  to 
hear  the  wisdom  of  Solomon,  and  be  instructed  in  the 
doctrines  of  his  religion,  is  an  occurrence  unexampled 
in  the  history  of  mankind.  Why  should  we  then  think 
any  labor  too  great,  any  difficulties  too  formidable  to 
hear  one  greater  than  Solomon  1  How  justly  shall  the 
queen  of  the  south  rise  up  in  judgment  with  this  ge- 
neration, and  condemn  us,  who,  when  Wisdom  crieth  in 
the  streets,  do  not,  will  not  regard  the  heavenly  voice  1 

Dissatisfied  with  the  learning,  and  probably  disgusted 
with  the  worship  of  her  own  country,  she  betakes  her- 
self to  the  oracles  of  God.  It  is  good  that  in  matters 
of  such  consequence  we  should  examine  for  ourselves  j 
and  happy  are  we  when  we  obtain  the  satisfaction  we 
desire.    The  mind  which  takes  all  upon  trust,  will  be 


THE    QUEEN    OF    SHEBA.  163 

destitute  of  knowledge — the  mind  which  is  always  per- 
plexed with  doubts,  will  know  nothing  as  it  ought.  A 
proper  spirit  of  inquiry  animates  us  in  the  pursuit  of 
truth — conviction  establishes  us  in  the  truth,  when  we 
have  found  it.  It  were  misery  and  disquiet  to  doubt, 
did  we  not  look  forward  to  that  period  when  all  doubt 
shall  be  removed.  Thoughts  of  this  nature  must  not 
dwell  too  long  upon  the  soul.  They  may  be  useful  as 
passengers — they  are  dangerous  as  inmates.  Happy 
are  we  if  we  can  find  a  Solomon  to  remove  them.  Now 
we  know  in  part ;  but  a  time  shall  come,  when  that 
which  is  in  part  shall  be  done  away,  and  all  shall  be  per- 
fection of  knowledge  and  of  glor^". 

Fame,  in  its  variety  of  rumors,  too  frequently  ex- 
aggerates. The  wise  princess  will  not  trust  to  this 
precarious  informer,  whose  narratives  are  often  either 
doubtful  or  fabulous,  and  (like  winds  or  streams)  in- 
crease in  their  progress.  If  great  things  had  not  been 
spoken  of  Solomon,  report  had  wronged  him — if  the 
facts  were  but  justly  related,  they  still  must  fill  the 
minds  of  the  hearers  with  astonishment.  The  queen  of 
Sheba  comes  in  person  to  examine  into  the  truth  of 
these  wonders.  She  knew  that  wisdom  was  more  pre- 
cious than  rubies — that  its  merchandise  was  better  than 
the  merchandise  of  silver,  and  the  gain  thereof  than 
fme  gold.  Alas,  how  dangerous  is  it,  in  the  most  impor- 
tant of  all  concerns,  to  trust  implicitly  to  the  opinions 
of  others !  Those  rational  faculties  are  misapplied, 
which  are  not  devoted  by  their  possessors  to  the  in- 
terests of  religion  and  the  benefit  of  their  own  souls. 

Should  we  come  to  a  rich  treasure,  we  should  need 
no  injunction  to  avail  ourselves  as  much  as  possible  of 
the  benefit.  The  royal  proselyte,  who  had  been  deterred 
by  no  difficulties  in  the  pursuit  of  knowledge,  when  at 
last  she  is  arrived  at  Jerusalem,  will  not  forego  her  own 
advantage.    She  states  all  her  doubts  to  this  great  mas 


164 

ter  of  wisdom,  and  receives  instruction  while  he  re- 
solves them.  O  let  us  not  neglect  the  opportunities 
afTorded  us  of  furnishing  our  souls  with  profitable,  with 
saving  knowledge !  Of  what  use  is  it,  that  he  who 
taught  Solomon  condescends  to  be  our  teacher,  if,  sit- 
ino-  at  the  feet  of  Christ,  we  leave  our  hearts  either  in 
ignorance  or  perplexity  1 

The  queen  of  Sheba  came  with  a  magnificent  train, 
with  camels  laden  with  gold,  and  jewels,  and  rich  odors. 
Though  she  sought  the  presence  of  a  rich  and  mighty 
king,  she  will  not  be  sparing  of  her  oblations.  She 
came  in  search  of  an  invaluable  treasure,  and  she  will 
not  withhold  the  just  tokens  of  her  gratitude. 

Expectation  is  no  better  than  a  kind  enemy  to  merit; 
if  we  look  beyond  an  object,  it  escapes  our  accurate  view. 
Many  would  have  been  admired,  if  they  had  not  been 
too  loudly  proclaimed  by  the  voice  of  fame ;  many,  up- 
on inquiry,  fall  as  much  below  their  real  standard  of  ex- 
cellence as  our  imaginations  had  raised  them  above  it. 
This  disadvantage  had  Solomon  with  his  royal  guest. 
Rumor  bade  her  look  for  incredible  excellence  j  yet  so 
wonderful  were  the  perfections  of  Solomon,  that  they 
overcame  the  highest  expectation  and  the  most  liberal 
belief.  When  she  beheld  his  royal  buildings,  the  mag- 
nificence of  his  kingdom,  the  solemnities  of  his  religion, 
his  stately  ascent  into  the  house  of  the  Lord,  she  con- 
fessed her  own  incredulity,  and  the  inadequacy  of  those 
very  reports  which  she  had  condemned  as  fabulous.  "I 
believed  not  the  words,  till  I  came,  and  mine  eyes  had 
seen  it;  and  lo,  the  half  was  not  told  me."  How  should 
our  souls  be  filled  with  wonder  at  thee,  0  thou  Son  of 
David,  who  didst  not  receive  the  Spirit  by  measure  1 
who  hast  framed  this  glorious  temple  of  the  universe, 
and  the  still  greater  splendors  of  thy  celestial  palace  1 
whose  infinite  providence  ordereth  all  things  in  heaven 
and  earth  1  who,  when  thou  didst  ascend   upon  high, 


THE    QUEEN    OF    SHEBA.  165 

didst  lead  captivity  captive,  and  gavest  such  gifts  un^ 
to  men  1 

The  wise  princess  can  now  form  a  just  estimate  of 
the  mercy  of  God  in  bestowing  such  a  monarch  on  his 
favored  people.  She  pronounces  them  blessed  on  whom 
that  lio-ht  shineth  which  was  sent  from  heaven  to  benefit 

o 

mankind.  ''  Happy  are  thy  servants  who  stand  continu- 
ally before  thee  and  hear  thy  wisdom."  She  held  this 
privilege  more  valuable  than  any  gift  which  the  world 
had  to  offer ;  more  precious  than  earthly  thrones  and 
sceptres.  How  should  we,  who  hear  the  words  of  God 
and  live  under  the  sound,  of  the  glorious  Gospel,  how 
should  we  look  on  ourselves  as  the  happiest  of  mankind  ! 
How  should  every  worldly  advantage  and  delight  be  es- 
teemed as  less  than  nothing  in  comparison  with  distinc- 
tions like  these  ! 

The  experience  of  the  queen  had  taught  her  how  hap- 
py is  that  people  whose  rulers  delight  in  wisdom.  She 
magnifies  the  God  of  Israel — she  blesses  Solomon — she 
congratulates  his  subjects.  ''Blessed  be  the  Lord  thy 
God,  which  delighteth  in  thee,  to  set  thee  on  the  throne 
of  Israel.  Because  the  Lord  loved  Israel  for  ever,  there- 
fore made  he  thee  king,  to  do  judgment  and  justice." 
The  glory  of  Solomon  was  equalled  by  the  happiness 
of  Israel.  There  is  no  earthly  proof  of  God's  love  to 
any  nation  comparable  to  that  of  his  delegating  his  au- 
thority to  wise  and  pious  rulers.  They  are  the  minis- 
ters of  God  to  us  for  good;  in  their  time  shall  the  righ- 
teous flourish.  But,  0  God,  how  hast  thou  loved  thy 
chosen  Israel,  the  church,  in  setting  over  us  that  righ- 
teous Branch  of  Jesse,  whose  name  is  Wonderful,  Coun- 
sellor, the  mighty  God,  the  everlasting  Father,  the  Prince 
of  Peace!  in  his  days  Judah  shall  be  saved,  and  Israel 
shall  dwell  safely,  and  this  is  his  name  whereby  he  shall 
be  called,  Me  Lord  our  Righteousness.  Sing,  O  heaven, 
and  rejoice,  O  earth,  break  forth  into  singing,  0  moun- 


166  hall's  scripture  history. 

tains,  for  the  Lord  hath  comforted  his  people,  and  will 
have  everlasting  mercy  upon  his  heritage  ! 

Rich  and  magnificent  as  Solomon  was  before,  the 
queen  of  Sheba  adds  yet  to  his  wealth.  An  hundred 
and  twenty  talents  of  pure  gold,  with  precious  jewels 
and  costly  odors,  are  sent  by  her  to  the  royal  treasury. 
Was  not  this  a  type  of  that  homage  which  thou  shouldst 
receive,  0  blessed  Jesus,  from  the  Gentile  world  ]  ''  The 
kings  of  Tarshish  and  of  the  isles  shall  bring  presents; 
the  kings  of  Sheba  and  Seba  shall  offer  gifts ;  yea,  all 
kin^s  shall  fall  down  before  him — all  nations  shall  serve 

o 

him." 

Solomon  requites  these  presents  with  the  munificence 
of  a  patron,  with  the  generosity  of  a  prince.  We  can- 
not but  be  gainers  by  whatever  we  present  unto  thee,  0 
God  of  wisdom  and  peace.  Teach  us  to  leave  the  re- 
mote regions  of  our  infidelity  and  worldly  thoughts,  that 
we  may  learn  of  thee,  who  givest  to  all  men  liberally, 
and  upbraidest  not !  Then  shall  our  hearts,  our  sincere 
(though  imperfect)  services  find  acceptance  in  thy  sight ; 
then  shall  we  receive  from  thy  gracious  hand  present 
comfort  and  eternal  glory. 


36.  — JEROBOAM. 

The  successor  of  David  now  sleeps  in  the  tomb  ;  his 
wisdom,  his  infirmities,  his  sin  and  his  repentance  no 
longer  awaken  the  sorrow  or  the  admiration  of  mankind. 
Rehoboam,  his  son,  fears  no  rival;  he  goes  up  to  She- 
chem  to  take  undisturbed  possession  of  the  vacant 
throne.  Thither  assembled  the  tribes  of  Israel,  and  at 
their  head  the  proud  and  factious  Jeroboam. 


JEROBOAM.  167 

"  Thy  father  made  our  yoke  grievous — make  thou  it 
lighter,  and  we  will  serve  thee."  How  much  danger 
lurked  under  this  specious  request!  Is  it  the  promise 
of  allegiance,  or  the  threat  of  sedition  1  Is  it  the  voice 
of  humility  or  of  treason]  How  artfully  does  the  par- 
ricide hold  the  olive-branch  over  his  sword !  If  Reho- 
boam  refuses  to  gratify  the  people  he  endangers  his 
kingdom.  If  he  yields,  he  throws  disgrace  on  the  me- 
mory of  his  father. 

The  suggestion  itself  was  false^  as  well  as  undutiful. 
The  warlike  reigns  of  Saul  and  David  had  given  un- 
avoidable cause  for  complaint.  All  was  calm  when  So- 
lomon held  the  sceptre;  the  tributes  o^  foreign  nations 
enriched  his  treasury — his  temples  and  palaces  were 
reared  hy  foreign  labor:  while  the  tasks  of  Israel  were 
easy — as  free  from  servility,  as  from  pain.  In  his  reign 
Judah  and  Israel  were  many  as  the  sand  on  the  sea- 
shore, rejoicing  each  man  under  his  vine  and  under  his 
fig-tree.  In  his  reign,  silver  was  in  Jerusalem  as  stones, 
and  cedars  as  sycamore  trees  in  the  vale  for  abundance. 
Did  this  universal  plenty  and  prosperity  indicate  oppres- 
sive exactions!  But  base  and  grovelling  souls  delight 
in  casting  censures  on  departed  worth.  The  benefits  of 
Solomon's  reign  are  passed  over  in  silence — imaginary 
grievances  are  descanted  on  with  clamor.  Who  shall 
hope  that  his  merit  or  his  greatness  shall  altogether 
exempt  him  from  obloquy,  when  the  name  of  Solomon 
is  thus  traduced  in  the  very  presence  of  his  son! 

The  ancient  counsellors  of  the  deceased  monarch  had 
learned  of  their  master,  that  "  a  soft  answer  turneth 
away  wrath."  Wisely,  therefore,  do  they  entreat  Reho- 
boam  to  speak  good  words  unto  the  people,  and  attach 
them  to  him  for  ever.  It  is  no  hard  condition,  by  meek- 
ness and  condescension  to  bind  the  hearts  and  secure 
the  allegiance  of  a  mighty  nation.  Had  this  sage  ad- 
vice been  adopted,  the  son  of  Nebat  might  have  fled 


168  hall's  scripture  history. 

again  into  Egypt — rebellion  would  have  found  an  un- 
fruitful soil  in  Israel. 

Age  brings  with  it  experience,  and  ripens  wisdom — 
youth  is  too  often  rash,  headstrong,  seduced  by  passion, 
the  foe  to  reason.  Many  a  kingdom,  many  a  life,  many 
a  soul  has  been  lost  by  evil  counsellors:  such  were 
those  whom  Rehoboam  preferred  to  the  grey-headed 
servants  of  his  father.  He  now  hears  how  unfit  it  is  for 
majesty  to  submit  to  any  terms  and  stipulations — how 
requisite  it  is  to  deal  harshly  with  this  presumption,  and 
to  crush  the  yet  unformed  mischief  ere  it  break  out 
into  rebellion.  They  bid  him  speak  the  language  of 
haughty  and  indignant  pride.  He  glories  in  the  falsely- 
alleged  tyranny  of  Solomon.  "My  father  made  your 
joke  heavy,  I  will  add  to  your  yoke  ;  my  father  chas- 
tised you  with  whips,  I  will  chastise  you  with  scor- 
pions." 

0  senseless  people  and  infatuated  prince  !  Had  they 
complained  that  in  the  latter  days  of  Solomon  religion 
had  been  corrupted,  had  they  besought  their  new  king 
to  begin  his  reign  with  God,  to  demolish  the  idols,  to 
purify  the  temple,  to  restore  devotion  to  its  original 
simplicity,  such  requests  as  these  would  have  done 
honor  to  their  national  character — now  they  seek  for 
nothing  but  the  gratification  of  themselves;  and  their 
king,  regardless  of  their  reformation,  has  nothing  in 
view  but  imperious  sovereignty.  Let  him  but  accom- 
plish this  point,  his  people  may  be  profligate  or  mise- 
rable, it  is  a  matter  of  indiflerence  to  himself! 

Now  that  flame  bursts  out  at  once,  which  was  never 
more  to  be  extinguished.  The  furious  multitude,  grown 
desperate  by  these  denunciations  of  rigor,  exclaim  with 
one  voice,  '^  What  portion  have  we  in  David  ]  To  your 
tents,  O  Israel !" 

The  son  of  Nebat  has  now  the  crown  he  was  so  soli- 
citous to  obtain.     The   tribes  of  Judah  and  Benjamin 


JEROBOAM.  169 

alone  adhere  to  the  descendant  of  David.  The  example 
of  a  genera]  rebellion  will  not  make  them  unfaithful  to 
their  misguided  sovereign — their  swords  are  ready  to 
be  drawn  in  his  defence — they  breathe  nothing  but 
vengeance  and  war — when  suddenly  a  message  from 
God  forbids  the  battle,  and  dismisses  these  mighty  ar- 
mies. There  was  yet  some  virtue  in  Rehoboam,  in  that 
he  submitted  to  the  will  of  Heaven,  and  held  his  peace, 
because  the  Lord  had  done  it.  With  a  hundred  and 
fourscore  thousand  adherents  he  dares  not  strive  against 
his  Maker — at  once  he  lays  down  his  arms,  and  after 
such  a  prohibition,  will  not  seek  even  the  recovery  of 
his  kingdom  by  bloodsh&d. 

Meanwhile  his  successful  rival  foments  a  spiriiual 
as  well  as  a  civil  defection.  He  well  knew  the  affinity 
between  treason  and  idolatry — he  knew  that  they  who 
feared  God  would  not  fail  to  honor  the  king.  Thus, 
therefore,  he  reasons  in  his  heart,  "  It  is  true,  that  the 
ten  tribes  have  placed  the  sceptre  in  my  hands — this 
sudden  advancement  may  as  suddenly  decline — their 
return  to  their  loyalty  will  at  once  deprive  me  of  my 
life  and  kingdom.  If  they  go  up  to  worship  at  Jerusa- 
lem, they  will  behold  the  glorious  temple,  they  will  see 
the  magnificent  palace  of  Solomon,  and  remember  their 
first  allegiance.  There  the  solicitations  of  their  breth- 
ren, the  admonitions  of  the  priests,  the  feelings  of  their 
own  hearts  will  bid  them  throw  themselves  on  the  mer- 
cy of  their  lawful  prince.  I  must  therefore  divert  them 
from  Jerusalem,  or  my  glory  is  baseless  and  unreal. 
Without  having  recourse  to  direct  prohibition,  which 
will  but  inflame  their  desires,  I  will  propose  to  them  a 
more  compendious,  more  plausible  worship.  They  shall 
have  gods,  and  altars,  and  priests,  and  sacrifices  of 
their  own." 

How  easily  is  the  variable  populace  seduced  by  every 
blast  of  vain  doctrine,  through  the  slight  of  men  and 

Script.  Hi?t  8 


170  hall's  scrarxuRE  niSTORi'. 

cunning  crafiiuess  wliereby  they  lie  in  wait  to  deceive! 
No  sooner  are  the  idols  of  Jeroboam  set  np,  than  all 
Israel  falls  prostrate  in  humble  adoration — the  new 
king  stands  before  his  new  altar,  and  the  censer  is  in 
his  impious  hand. 

At  this  moment  a  man  of  God  comes  from  Judah  to 
denounce  the  indignation  of  Heaven.  When  the  king 
of  Israel  is  in  the  height  of  his  state  and  superstition, 
the  courageous  prophet  fears  not  to  interrupt  the  ser- 
vice with  solemn  exclamations  of  judgment.  The  mes- 
senger of  Jehovah  fears  neither  the  power  nor  malice 
of  the  tyrant,  whom  he  dared  to  reprove  so  sharply  in 
the  midst  of  his  pompous  magnificence.  He  foretells 
the  name  of  that  descendant  of  David  who  should  over- 
throw these  altars,  annul  these  ceremonies,  and  (re- 
covering his  own  rights  and  those  of  his  God)  should 
overw'aelm  the  rivals  of  both  w-ith  demolition  and  ruin. 

And,  lest  the  remote  event  of  the  prediction  should 
lessen  its  credibility,  a  present  demonstration  evidences 
its  future  accomplishment.  The  altar  even  now^  is  rent 
in  pieces — the  ashes  on  it  even  now  are  scattered.  With 
Avhat  amazement  must  the  seduced  Israelites  behold 
this  miracle  !  How  must  they  tremble  at  their  apostacy, 
when  they  see  the  power  of  the  God  whom  they  had 
forsaken  1  when  they  see  him  rending  the  altars  of  idol- 
atry, and  breaking  them  to  pieces  at  the  voice  of  his 
prophet  1  Thus  some  of  the  beholders  might  possibly  be 
aflected  :  but  Jeroboam,  impatient  of  reproof,  rebellious 
ao-ainst  God  and  man,  instead  of  bowinar  the  knee  in  hu- 
miliation,  stretches  out  his  hand  for  revenge — "  Lay 
hold  on  him." 

How  easily  can  the  Almighty  prove  to  the  profane 
and  tyrannous  that  wherein  they  deal  proudly  he  is 
above  them !  The  hand  stretched  out  in  rage  suddenly 
dries  up  and  remains  senseless  and  immoveable.  There 
stands  the  king  of  Israel,  like  some  ancient  statue,  to 


JEROBOAM.  171 

wliich  the  skill  of  the  artist  has  given  looks  and  ges- 
tures of  indignation,  while  itself  is  only  lifeless  marble. 
Now  are  his  threats  converted  into  humble  entreaties — 
the  prophet,  so  late  the  object  of  his  wrath,  must  now 
intercede  with  God  for  his  restoration.  He  might  justly 
have  been  answered,  "  Thine  intentions  to  me  were 
cruel — had  thine  hand  prevailed  /  should  have  sued  to 
ihee  in  vain.  Continue  a  fearful  spectacle  of  the  ven- 
geance of  thy  Maker!"  But  the  servant  of  God  must 
not  strive — he  must  requite  barbarity  itself  with  meek- 
ness. The  prophet  makes  intercession  for  Jeroboam — 
he  is  heard  and  answered  with  success. 

And  vj'iW  not  even  this  prevail  on  an  obdurate  heart  1 
Will  not  the  king  of  Israel  now  renounce  his  idolatry  X 
Will  not  he  say,  '^  Lord,  thou  hast  stricken  me  injus- 
tice— thou  hast  healed  me  in  mercy — I  will  provoke 
thee  no  more — this  hand  which  thou  hast  restored  me 
shall  be  consecrated  to  thee,  in  pulling  down  these  bold 
abominations  V  Alas,  he  persists  in  his  impieties,  and 
as  if  he  had  neither  experienced  the  goodness  nor  se- 
verity of  God,  lives  and  dicr  an  idolater; 

The  wretched  heir  to  his  crimes,  as  well  as  his  throne, 
falls  by  assassination — his  family  is  exterminated — his 
name  remembered  with  horror,  and  handed  down  \\\i\i 
infamy  to  succeeding  generations.  "  Knowest  thou  not 
this  of  old,  since  man  v/as  placed  upon  the  earth,  that 
the  triumphing  of  the  wicked  is  short,  and  the  joy  of 
the  hypocrite  for  a  moment  \  I  went  by,  and  lo,  he  was 
gone — I  sought  him,  but  his  place  could  no  where  be 
found !" 


172  IIALl\s    SCniPTURE    HISTORY 


37.— ELIJAH  AT   SAREPTA. 

The  providence  of  God  seems  to  have  reserved  his 
most  illustrious  prophet  for  an  age  of  extreme  depravity. 
The  Searcher  of  hearts  adapts  his  servants  to  the  work 
which  he  commissions  them  to  perform,  and  raises  him- 
self up  such  witnesses  as  are  best  able  to  evince  their 
heavenly  mission.  Moses,  gentle  in  spirit,  mighty  in 
wonders,  was  fitted  for  the  various  events  which  befell 
him  in  his  intercourse  both  with  Pharaoh  and  with  the 
afflicted,  and  at  the  same  time  rebellious  Israelites.  The 
grave  and  holy  Samuel  flourished  when  the  people  of 
God  were  quietly  seated  in  the  land  of  promise — while 
the  ardent  zeal  of  Elijah  was  such  as  best  became  that 
desperate  state  of  declension  into  which  '^back-sliding 
Israel"  had  fallen,  when  the  crimes  of  Jeroboam  were 
buried  in  those  of  Ahab. 

"As  the  Lord  God  of  hosts  liveth,  before  whom  I 
stand,  there  shall  not  be  dew  nor  rain  these  years,  but 
according  to  my  word."  After  many  solicitations  and 
v/arnings,  Israel  is  sentenced  by  the  tongue  that  had  so 
often  interceded  with  God  in  its  behalf.  The  courage 
of  Elijah  is  equal  to  his  power.  He  dares  proclaim  to 
the  face  of  Ahab  those  judgments  to  which  the  wicked- 
ness of  both  king  and  people  had  exposed  them.  No 
earthly  power  could  be  formidable  to  one  who  had  such 
an  interest  in  heaven  that  lie  could  cither  shut  it  up  or 
open  it  at  pleasure.  Those  prayers  which  could  restrain 
the  clouds,  could  far  more  easily  avert  the  sword  of 
persecution. 

The  drought  which  had  been  denounced  by  Elijah 
occasions  an  immediate  famine.  From  the  consequences 
of  this  visitation  the  prophet  himself  is  not  exempted. 
The  children  of  light  are  often  suffered  to  participate 
in  the  temporal  calamities  of  offenders.    The  brook  of 


ELIJAH    AT    SAREPTA.  173 

Cheritli  shall  for  a  while  relieve  the  thirst  of  the  nian 
of  God — and  he,  whose  worth  entitled  him  to  a  wel- 
come even  in  the  courts  of  kings,  is  fed  by  miracle  in 
his  retirement. 

At  length  the  brook  is  dried  up,  and  the  prophet  is 
commanded  to  seek  elsewhere  for  support.  ■'  Many  wi- 
dows were  in  Israel  in  the  days  of  Elijah,  when  the 
heaven  was  shut  up  three  years  and  six  months — but 
unto  none  of  them  was  Elijah  sent — he  repaired  to  Sa- 
repta,  a  city  of  Zidon,  unto  a  woman  that  was  a  widow." 

The  prophet  follows  the  directions  of  his  God — the 
widow  of  Sarepta,  under  the  same  guidance,  goes  forth 
as  it  were  to  meet  him.  Emboldened  by  the  charge  he 
had  received,  Elijah  no  sooner  beholds  her  than  he  re- 
quests some  sustenance  for  exhausted  nature.  ^*  Fetch 
me  a  little  water  in  a  vessel  that  I  may  drink — bring 
me,  I  pray  thee,  a  morsel  of  bread  in  thine  hand." 

Even  in  a  city  of  Zidon,  the  habit  and  demeanor  of 
Elijah  proclaim  him  to  be  a  prophet  of  Jehovah.  When 
every  morsel  was  precious,  he  scruples  not,  in  virtue  of 
his  character,  to  solicit  immediate  relief.  The  claim 
seems  at  once  to  be  acknowledged — but  the  person 
whom  he  addresses  is  compelled  to  an  unwilling  refusal. 

'^  As  the  Lord  thy  God  liveth,  I  have  nothing,  save  a 
handful  of  meal  in  a  barrel,  and  a  little  oil  in  a  cruse  ; 
and,  behold,  I  am  gathering  a  few  sticks,  that  I  may  go 
in  and  dress  it  for  my  son,  that  we  may  eat  it  and  die." 
It  was  time  for  the  prophet  to  bring  comfort  to  these 
mourners.  The  miserable  parent  was  now  preparing 
her  last  meal — after  one  wretched  repast,  she  looked 
forward  to  a  twofold  death,  in  her  own  person,  and  that 
of  her  child.  It  is  the  glory  of  God  to  assist  us  when  w^e 
seem  to  be  utterly  forsaken — our  deliverance  is  then 
most  w^elcome,  as  being  least  expected. 

But  what  a  trial  is  this  of  the  faith  of  a  weak  prose- 
lyte ]  Fear  not,  do  as  thou  hast  said — but  bring  me  there- 


174  hall's  scripture  history. 

of  first,  and  afterwards  make  for  thee  and  thy  son.  For 
thus  saith  the  God  of  Israel,  The  barrel  of  meal  shall  not 
wasle,  nor  the  cruse  of  oil  fail,  until  the  day  that  the 
Lord  send  rain  upon  the  earth.''''  She  must  part  with  her 
present  food,  in  expectation  of  future,  which  was  to  be 
provided  her  by  miracle — she  must  feed  a  stranger  ere 
she  attended  to  herself  and  her  son — she  must  shorten 
her  life,  in  hopes  of  its  continuance.  "Bold  Israelite," 
might  she  have  said,  "  wast  thou  even  a  friend,  or  brother, 
would  such  a  request  beseem  thee  1  Had  I  superfluity 
of  provision  thou  mightest  have  shared  it  with  me — now, 
that  I  have  only  one  morsel  for  my  child,  what  can  in- 
duce me  to  listen  to  an  unknown  traveller  1  Thou  say- 
est  the  meal  shall  not  waste,  nor  the  cruse  of  oil  fail. 
At  this  moment  let  thy  word  come  to  pass.  When  thou 
hast  exhausted  the  remainder  of  my  store,  in  vain  shall 
I  challenge  the  performance  of  thy  promise.  If  thou  canst 
thus  multiply  food,  why  art  thou  in  want  of  sustenance  V* 
But  the  pious  widow  was  taught  by  God  not  to  dis- 
trust his  prophet.  Without  one  murmur  or  complaint 
she  obeys  his  commands,  and  hopes  for  the  accomplish- 
ment of  his  prediction.  '^  He  that  saveth  his  life  shall 
lose  it ;  and  he  that  loseth  his  life  for  my  sake,  the  same 
shall  save  it."  Surely  her  faith  ^vas  no  less  efficacious 
than  the  prayers  of  Elijah.  The  mercy  of  God  crowns 
her  liberality  with  an  abundant  reward.  Who  shall  fear 
to  extend  relief  to  the  necessitous,  when  the  Father  of 
heaven  has  declared  that  he  will  hold  in  everlasting  re- 
membrance the  Christian's  work,  and  labor  that  pro- 
ceedeth  of  love  1 

The  barrel  of  meal  wastes  not,  the  cruse  of  oil  doth 
not  fail.  With  what  thankful  devotion  must  she  havo 
partaken  of  that  food  w^hich  the  providence  of  God  be- 
stowed in  so  supernatural  a  manner !  How  welcome  a 
guest  was  Elijah,  who  was  thus  the  minister  of  God  to 
her  for  good !  No  longer  apprehensive  of  famine,  she 


ELIJAH    AT    SAEEPTA.  175 

now  looks  on  her  son  with  all  those  exquisite  feelings 
of  hope,  and  love,  and  rapture  which  none  but  parents 
can  conceive — which  not  even  parents  can  express ! 

Alas,  at  what  moment  can  we  pronounce  ourselves  se- 
cure from  evil  1  The  youth  who  had  been  thus  rescued 
from  famine  is  suddenly  attacked  by  sickness.  While 
her  roof  is  yet  honored  with  the  presence  of  Elijah  she 
beholds  the  beloved  of  her  heart  torn  by  the  irresisti- 
ble arm  of  death  from  her  embraces. 

How  ready  are  we  to  mistake  the  grounds  of  our  afflic- 
tion, and  attribute  them  to  imnginary  causes!  The  pas- 
sionate mother  imputes  ihe  death  of  her  son  to  the  pre- 
sence of  Elijah.  In  distraction  of  her  grief  she  spares 
not  her  best  benefactor.  '^  What  have  I  to  do  with  thee, 
O  thou  man  of  God  ]  Art  thou  come  hither  to  call  my 
sins  to  remembrance,  and  to  slay  my  sonl" 

The  prophet,  instead  of  chiding  the  afflicted  parent, 
humbly  expostulates  with  his  God.  Though  he  was 
fervent  in  spirit,  his  pity  extinguishes  all  anger  at  this 
unjust  accusation — it  rather  serves  to  increase  the  ar- 
dor of  his  application  to  the  Almighty.  His  only  reme- 
dy is  prayer.  That  which  shut  heaven  from  rain,  seeks 
to  open  it  for  life.  He  pleads  his  interest  with  God — the 
distress  of  the  sufferer — her  insupportable  calamity  in 
being  deprived  of  her  last  remaining  comfort — and  he 
presumes  to  urge  the  consequences  which  would  befall 
himself.  "  See  what  a  return  Elijah  has  made  for  hos- 
pitality— surely  he  must  be  devoid  either  of  power  or 
of  gratitude  !" 

Having  thus  made  intercession  with  his  God,  the  pro- 
phet, in  an  ecstasy  of  spirit,  approaches  the  lifeless  re- 
mains. Thrice  does  he  stretch  himself  upon  the  body, 
as  if  he  would  transmit  into  the  child  a  portion  of  his 
own  existence — thrice  does  he  call  on  the  Almighty  to 
restore  the  departed  soul.  The  effectual  fervent  prayer 
of  the  righteous,  in   al!  cases  of  difficulty  and  danger. 


176 

has  recourse  to  the  Divine  omnipotence.  What  can 
Elijah  ask  that  God  shall  deny  1  The  Lord  heard  the 
voice  of  his  servant — the  soul  of  the  child  came  into 
him  again,  and  he  revived. 

Call  upon  me  in  the  time  of  trouble — so  will  I  hear 
thee,  and  thou  shalt  praise  me.  With  what  delight  does 
the  man  of  God  take  the  living  child  in  his  arms  and 
present  him  to  his  mother,  a  glorious  proof  of  the  power, 
the  mercy,  and  the  peculiar  favor  of  heaven ! 

Now,  when  the  astonished  parent  grasps  the  warm 
hand  of  her  son  ;  sees  his  eyes  once  more  fixed  on  hers ; 
beholds  life,  health  and  activity  in  every  action,  in  every 
gesture;  now  she  exclaims,  ''By  this  I  know  that  thou 
art  a  man  of  God,  and  that  the  word  of  the  Lord  in  thy 
mouth  is  truth."  Alas,  had  she  not  before  sufficient  evi- 
dence of  Elijah's  Divine  commission!  Was  not  the  bar- 
rel of  meal,  was  not  the  cruse  of  oil  demonstration'? 
The  most  enlightened  soul  may  sometimes  stand  in 
need  of  fresh  supplies  of  heavenly  assistance.  Blessed 
be  the  mercy  of  that  God  who  provides  help  for  our  in- 
firmities, and  condescends  (as  it  were  on  our  own  terms) 
to  increase  our  faith  and  work  out  our  salvation. 


38.— ELIJAH  ON  CARMEL. 

For  more  than  three  years  was  the  land  of  Israel  af- 
flicted by  drought  and  famine.  Elijah,  to  whom  the  peo- 
ple ascribe  their  misery,  is  all  this  time  the  object  of 
their  hatred  and  execrations.  They  abhor,  not  those 
sins  which  had  deserved  God's  vengeance,  but  the  righ- 
teous prophet  by  whose  ministry  it  was  injlicied.  At 
length  the  voice  of  heaven  calls  the  holy  man  from  Sa- 


ELIJAH    ON    CARMEL.  177 

repta,  and  sends  him  on  his  perilous  embassy  :  ''  Go^ 
show  thyself  to  Ahab,  and  I  will  send  rain  upon  the 
earth."  The  king  and  people  of  Israel  shall  witness  that 
God  performeth  the  word  of  his  servants  and  proves  his 
own  veracity  in  theirs. 

The  governor  of  Ahab's  house  is  faithful  to  Jehovah, 
while  his  master  is  the  slave  of  Baal :  he  had  hazarded 
his  own  life  to  preserve  those  prophets  whom  Jezebel 
sought  to  destroy.  To  him,  therefore,  while  he  is  sent 
in  search  of  pasture  and  springs  of  water,  Elijah  fears 
not  to  present  himself,  demanding  an  interview  with 
his  master. 

Obadiah,  who  had  prostrated  himself  to  the  earth  on 
sight  of  the  prophet,  receives  the  message  with  terror  ', 
he  sees  nothing  but  danger  and  death  either  to  himself 
or  to  Elijah;  to  himself,  if  the  object  of  Ahab's  fury 
be  rescued  j  to  Elijah,  if  he  encounter  the  tyrant's 
indignation. 

But  when  the  holy  man  confirms  his  purpose  with  an 
oath,  and  declares  that  he  will  surely  behold  the  face  of 
Ahab,  Obadiah  delays  no  longer.  No  doubt  the  king 
was  astonished  to  hear  that  Elijah  was  coming  to  meet 
him.  He  feared,  though  he  hated  the  prophet.  He  was 
aware  that  the  man  whom  he  had  so  long  and  so  fruit- 
lessly sought  to  destroy,  would  not  seek  his  presence 
but  under  a  sure  guard  and  with  some  high  commis- 
sion. He  knew  that  Elijah  was  invested  with  no  com- 
mon powers  from  above — that  the  mantle  of  the  pro- 
phet was  more  honored  than  his  own  royal  purple.  The 
withered  arm  of  Jeroboam  is  now  in  the  eye  of  his 
fancy.  He  dares  not  lift  up  his  hand  against  the  mes- 
senger of  Jehovah. 

But  while  he  refrains  from  actual  violence  he  for- 
bears not  to  inveigh  against  Elijah  as  the  occasion  of 
this  general  misery  :  ''  Art  thou  he  that  troubleth  Is- 
rael 1"  The  prophet  had  reproved  an  adulterous  genera- 

8* 


178 

tion  ;  he  had  denounced  the  judgments  of  God  on  their 
disobedience  ;  but  the  true  cause  of  their  suffering  was 
their  sin.  Foolish  men  are  plagued  for  their  offence^  and 
because  of  their  wickedness.  Most  justly  therefore  does 
Elijah,  in  all  the  boldness  of  conscious  innocence,  repel 
and  retort  the  charge  :  '^  I  have  not  troubled  Israel,  but 
thou  and  thy  father's  house,  in  that  ye  have  forsaken 
the  commandments  of  the  Lord."  Standing  alone  amidst 
the  train  of  Ahab,  he  shows  him  that  no  earthly  glory 
can  appal  that  man  who  is  blessed  with  revelations  from 
God.  He  commands  him,  as  one  having  authority,  to 
gather  together  his  idolatrous  prophets  to  the  top  of 
Carmel — he  bids  him  convene  an  assembly  of  the  people. 
He  speaks  as  if  he  were  about  to  perform  some  amazing 
miracle  in  the  sight  of  all  Israel.  The  heart  of  the  tyrant 
is  overawed  by  superior  virtue — he  trembles  and  obeys. 

The  tribes  are  met  together.  Elijah  reproves  them, 
not  merely  for  their  idolatry,  but  for  their  inconstancy 
and  irresolution.  ''How  long  halt  ye  between  two  opi- 
nions'? If  the  Lord  be  God,  follow  him;  but  if  Baal, 
then  follow  him  !"  Indifference  and  neutrality  in  reli- 
gious matters  is  of  itself  a  grievous  crime;  it  is  in  fact 
the  worst  of  all  hostility  against  God. 

AVhether  from  guilt,  or  fear,  or  uncertainty,  Israel  is 
silent — and  Elijah  addresses  them  once  more.  ''  I  only 
am  a  prophet  of  the  Lord,  while  Baal's  prophets  are  four 
hundred  and  fifty  men.  Let  us  each  prepare  a  sacrifice — • 
ikeir  devotion  shall  be  combined,  mine  single — the  God 
that  answereth  by  fire,  let  him  be  God."  The  proposi- 
tion is  fair,  and  open,  and  incapable  of  evasion.  Israel 
cannot  but  approve  it.  The  prophets  of  Baal  dare  not 
signify  disapprobation.  The  God  who  commanded  this 
trial  prepared  confusion  for  the  authors  of  idolatry  and 
triumph  for  his  heavenly  truth. 

The  prophets  of  Baal  embrace  the  condition  in  all  the 
terror  of  guiltiness.    They  prepare  the  sacrifice  ;  they 


ELIJAH    ON    CARMEL.  179 

lay  the  victim  on  the  wood ;  they  cry  unto  their  idol 
from  morning  until  noon,  "0  Baal,  hear  us!"  They 
rend  the  skies  with  clamor  ;  they  leap  upon  the  altar, 
Qs  if  they  would  ascend  to  meet  those  fires  which  de- 
layed to  come  down  ;  mount  Carmel  echoes  with  their 
shrieks,  but  the  heaven  is  silent.  Elijah  himself  forgets 
his  austerity,  and  derides  their  mockery  of  devotion. 
"  Cry  aloud,  for  he  is  a  god;  either  he  is  talking,  or  he 
is  pursuing,  or  he  is  on  a  journey,  or  peradventure  he 
sleepeth,  and  must  be  awakened." 

The  idolaters  renew  their  horrid  cries;  they  seize  in 
frantic  rage  on  the  instruments  of  sacrifice,  and  shed 
their  own  blood  upon  their  altar.  How  cruel,  how  ty- 
rannous is  superstition !  The  true  God  abhors  those 
self-inflicted  tortures.  He  wills  us  rather  to  mortify  our 
corruptions^  to  subdue  our  irregular  desires,  to  worship 
him  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  to  present  our  bodies  a  living 
sacrifice,  holy,  acceptable  to  himself,  which  is  our  rea- 
sonable service. 

How  gladly  would  the  apostate  spirit,  who  once  fell 
like  lightning  from  heaven,  have  now  come  down  in 
that  form  on  the  altar  of  his  votaries!  But  God  forbids 
it.  All  the  powers  of  hell  are  unable  to  convey  one  spark 
of  fire  into  the  air.  The  evening  draws  on — the  hope  of 
idolatry  is  turned  into  confusion.  The  prophets  of  Baal, 
dismayed  at  the  ill  success  of  their  shrieks,  and  wounds, 
and  frantic  gesticulations,  maintain  the  contest  no  lon- 
ger— they  sit  down,  overwhelmed  with  shame,  and  wea- 
riness, and  anguish — tormenting  themselves  with  their 
own  despair,  and  dreading  the  success  of  their  adversary. 

Now  does  the  prophet  of  Jehovah  call  the  people  to 
witness  his  sincere  proceedings.  He  avails  himself  of 
the  opportunity  of  time  and  place — at  the  hour  of  even- 
ing-sacrifice he  repairs  the  altar  of  God  which  the  de- 
generacy of  Israel  had  suffered  to  fall  into  ruin.  0  holy 
man,  what   means  this  labor  1    What  need  is  there  of 


180  hall's  scripture  historv. 

these  unseasonable  reparations  1  Was  there  not  an  aitar, 
was  there  not  a  sacrifice  now  ready  1  Did  not  the  vic- 
tim which  the  worshippers  of  Baal  had  prepared  await 
the  descent  of  that  fire  which  thy  prayers  should  bring 
down  from  heaven]  It  was  thy  just  detestation  of  idol- 
atry which  made  thee  refuse  to  avail  thyself  of  their 
profanations.  The  altar,  which  in  better  times  had  been 
consecrated  to  thy  God,  is  more  dear  to  thee  in  its  ruins 
than  all  the  pride  and  magnificence  of  pagan  worship! 

Elijah  lays  twelve  stones  on  this  hallowed  pile,  ac- 
cording to  the  number  of  the  tribes  of  Israel.  Ten  of 
these  were  perverted  to  Baal.  He  regards  not  their 
present  apostacy — he  has  respect  unto  the  ancient  cove- 
nant made  with  the  holy  patriarchs — he  would,  if  pos- 
sible, bring  them  back  to  their  primitive  simplicity  of 
Avorship.  He  well  knew  that  the  past  unworthiness  of 
Israel  would  not  blot  them  out  from  the  book  of  remem- 
brance, if  they  returned  from  their  delusions  to  the 
ways  of  truth. 

While  thus  he  reminds  his  people  of  their  degeneracy, 
he  bids  them  prepare  a  trench  round  his  altar.  He  com- 
mands them  to  fill  the  trench  with  water ;  to  pour  it  on 
the  sacrifice  and  on  the  wood.  Ahab  and  all  Israel  are 
full  of  anxious  expectation,  and  wait  the  event  in  so- 
lemn silence.  And  now,  when  God's  appointed  hour  of 
the  evening  sacrifice  was  come,  Elijah  reverently  ap- 
proaches his  altar,  and,  looking  up  to  heaven,  thus  ad- 
dresses the  Almighty  :  ''  Lord  God  of  Abraham,  Isaac, 
and  Jacob,  let  it  be  known  this  day  that  thou  art  God  in 
Israel,  and  that  I  am  thy  servant,  and  that  I  have  done 
all  these  things  by  thy  word.  Hear  me,  0  Lord,  hear 
me  ;  that  this  people  may  know  that  thou  art  the  Lord 
God,  and  that  thou  hast  turned  their  hearts  back  again." 

The  invocations  of  the  idolaters  were  tedious;  those 
of  Elijah  were  short,  but  effectual.  He  committed  to 
God  the  charge  of  his  Divine  truth,  his  covenant,  his 


NABOTII.  ISl 

glory.  Behold,  the  prayer  of  faith  pierces  the  heavens, 
and  irresistibly  ascends  to  the  throne  of  grace.  Israel 
shall  see  that  the  God  whom  they  had  forsaken  doth 
not  slumber  nor  sleep.  In  an  instant  the  fire  descends 
from  heaven — consumes  the  sacrifice,  the  wood,  the 
stones,  the  dust,  and  licks  up  the  water  that  was  in  the 
trench.  With  what  terror  must  an  idolatrous  king  and 
people  have  beheld  this  amazing  spectacle!  How  must 
they  have  trembled  lest  those  devouring  flames  should 
light  on  their  guilty  heads  as  well  as  on  the  sacrifice  of 
Elijah  !  However  they  might  reject  the  mercy  of  their 
Creator,  they  could  not  but  confess  and  adore  his  power. 
When  all  the  people  saw  it,  they  fell  on  their  faces 
and  said,  ^'  The  Lord,  he  is  the  God— the  Lord,  he  is 
the  God." 


39.— NABOTH. 

The  vineyard  of  Naboth  was  near  adjoining  to  the 
palace  of  Jezebel — happier  would  he  have  lived,  if  it 
had  been  situated  in  the  wilderness.  How  often  is  wealth 
a  snare  both  to  the  soul  and  to  the  life !  The  posses- 
sions of  this  Jezreelite  are  a  perpetual  cause  of  jealousy 
and  envy  to  Ahab  and  to  the  inhuman  partner  of  his 
throne.  The  vicinity  of  Naboth's  vineyard  makes  it  an 
object  on  which  an  evil  eye  fails  not  to  rest,  and  awak- 
ens those  covetous  desires  which  can  neither  admit  of 
satisfaction  nor  brook  control. 

Twice  had  the  king  of  Israel  been  victorious  over  the 
Syrians — he  returns  home,  to  be  oppressed  and  van- 
quished by  the  wayward  desire  of  his  neighbor's  inhe- 
ritance.   In  vain  shall  Ahab  boast  of  subduing  a  foreijrn 


182 

enemj',  while  a  domestic  foe  remains  triumphant  wilhiu 
his  own  breast. 

The  proposition,  ^Yhether  of  purchase  or  exchange, 
was  specious  and  plausible.  Even  the  tyrant  himself 
dares  not  invade  those  rights  Vvhich  long  prescription 
had  sanctioned,  and  which  gave  Naboth  a  more  just  title 
to  this  vineyard  than  himself  had  to  the  throne.  Yet 
dares  not  Naboth  comply  with  the  wishes  of  his  master  ; 
the  Lord  forbade  him  to  alienate  the  inheritance  of  his 
fathers.  The  command  of  God  was  more  binding-  to  the 
conscientious  Israelite  than  the  requests  or  injunctions 
of  Ahab.  An  equivalent  was  easy  to  be  obtained ;  but 
what  is  a  man  profited  if  he  gain  the  whole  world  and 
lose  his  own  soul  1  or  even  wound  his  own  conscience  1 
The  Divine  ordinances  took  e?pecial  care  to  preserve  for 
individuals  and  familiss  their  respective  proportions  in 
the  land  of  promise.  Nothing  but  extreme  necessity 
allowed  them  to  consign  the  inheritances  to  others;  and 
even  ihen,  at  the  great  year  of  jubilee,  they  reverted  to 
the  original  owners.  It  was  not  without  a  spiritual  im- 
port, that  w^hosoever  had  once  his  part  in  the  heavenly 
gift  was  directed  to  keep  that  safe  which  was  committed 
to  his  trust.  Ahab  well  knew  the  positive  nature  of  the 
restriction,  and  yet  he  scrupled  not  to  say,  "Give  me 
thy  vineyard." 

The  innocent  Naboth  must  now  either  displease  his 
king  or  disobey  God.  He  prefers  conscience  to  policy ; 
he  fears  not  them  that  kill  the  body  ;  whether  in  death 
or  life,  he  resolves  to  hold  fast  his  integrity.  Ahab  can- 
not but  see  that  the  Divine  prohibition  alone  interfered 
with  his  desires;  and  yet  he  goes  down  to  his  house 
heavy  and  displeased — he  throws  himself  on  his  bed — 
he  refuses  to  take  sustenance.  How  ill  can  a  proud 
heart  endure  contradiction  !  The  monarch  of  Israel,  the 
conqueror  of  Syria,  the  vanquisher  of  him  who  brought 
two  and  thirty  tributary  kings  into  the  field  of  battle,  is 


NABOTII.  183 

a  prey  Lo  anger,  to  grief,  to  pining  sickness,  because  he 
cannot  possess  the  vineyard  of  Naboth.  0  the  insatiable 
desires  of  covetousness  !  O  miserable  Ahab,  who,  in  the 
midst  of  royal  splendor  and  most  signal  victories,  art 
lost  to  all  enjoyment  while  one  trivial  wish  remains  un- 
satisfied! 

Corrupt  as  was  the  heart  of  Ahab,  he  fears  to  make 
use  of  either  fraud  or  violence  for  the  accomplishment 
of  his  designs.  The  king  of  Israel  is  a  mere  novice  in 
wickedness,  when  compared  with  his  Zidonian  v/ife. 
Jezebel  approaches  the  bed  where  her  lord  abandoned 
himself  to  the  petulance  ef  childish  sorrow.  ''  Dost  thou 
now  govern  the  kingdom  of  Israel  ]  Arise,  and  eat  bread, 
and  let  thine  heart  be  merry.  I  will  give  thee  the  vine- 
yard of  Naboth  the  Jezreelite."  She  chides  the  pusil- 
lanimity of  her  husband,  and  persuades  him  that  his 
power  is  fettered  if  he  regards  the  laws  of  justice.  She 
demands  his  royal  signet— she  frames  a  letter  in  his  name 
to  the  ciders  of  Jezreel — she  bids  them  proclaim  a  fast, 
suborn  false  witnesses  against  Naboth,  accuse  him  of 
blasphemy  and  treason,  and  consign  him  to  instant  death. 
Such  is  the  price  which  Naboth  must  receive  for  his 
envied  possession ! 

Who  can  without  indignation  contemplate  the  impious 
Jezebel  naming  a  fast  1  The  enemies  of  God  can  yet 
turn  religion  to  their  own  advantage.  She  was  not  ig- 
norant that  amongst  the  Israelites  blasphemers  were 
punished  with  death ;  she  knew  their  manner  was  to 
expiate  a  sin  of  this  crying  nature  by  public  humiliation  ; 
that  two  witnesses  were  necessary  to  convict  the  offend- 
er. All  this  she  urged  to  her  own  purpose.  There  is 
no  mischief  so  diabolical  as  that  which  is  masked  with 
piety.  Villany  is  then  redoubled,  and  the  guilt  of  mur- 
der itself  receives  a  deeper  dye. 

But  shall  the  rulers  of  Jezreel  tamely  acquiesce  in 
these  inhuman  proceedings  1    Shall  they  not  shudder  at 


184^ 

the  idea  of  being  accomplices  in  such  wickedness  ]  The 
Lord,  who  forbade  Naboth  to  alienate  the  inheritance  of 
his  fathers,  forbade  them  also  to  frame  a  perjury,  to  be- 
lie the  truth,  to  abet  corruption,  to  condemn  the  guilt- 
less. Alas !  the  depravity  of  Israel  was  extreme  ;  they 
whose  office  called  them  to  the  punishment  of  crimes 
were  most  eager  to  oflend  ;  they  who  were  called  to  tlie 
administration  of  justice  were  not  afraid  to  shed  inno- 
cent blood.  Jezebel  well  knew  whom  she  addressed — 
she  found  the  ready  obedience  which  she  expected.  A 
fast  is  proclaimed — the  offender  is  summoned  before  his 
impious  judges — false  witnesses  rise  up — the  magis- 
trates rend  their  garments,  to  testify  their  horror  at 
Naboth's  crime  and  their  regret  on  account  of  its  con- 
sequences. The  blameless  man  is  dismissed  to  instant 
execution  j  his  vineyard,  forfeited  by  his  imaginary 
crimes,  descends  not  to  his  children,  who  probably 
shared  the  fate  of  their  father,  (2  Kings,  9  :  26  ;)  the  re- 
morseless tyrant  arises  from  his  bed,  goes  down  to  the 
vineyard  of  Naboth,  and  takes  immediate  and  unmolest- 
ed possession. 

How  often  does  God,  in  his  extreme  displeasure,  per- 
mit the  sinner  to  effect  the  purposes  of  a  wicked  heart! 
The  temporary  success  of  guilt  seems  to  argue  that 
heaven  and  earth  befriend  it  3  till  the  slow  but  sure  re- 
tribution, bursting  on  the  head  of  the  offender,  pro- 
claims at  once  the  justice  and  the  power  oC  Jehovah. 
While  Ahab  is  rejoicing  in  his  nev/  acquisition,  and  pro- 
mising himself  convenience  and  pleasure,  he  beholds 
Elijah  sent  to  him  from  God  with  denunciations  of  ven- 
geance. How  does  the  king's  countenance  change  at 
once !  With  what  paleness  in  his  cheek,  what  conster- 
nation in  his  eye,  doth  he  behold  the  unwelcome  pro- 
phet!  What  a  tumult  of  agonizing  passions  is  in  his 
soul  while  his  tongue  faintly  utters,  ''  Kast  thou  found 
me,  O  mine  enemy  f ' 


NAEOTH. 


185 


How  great  is  the  power  of  conscience!  Elijuh  and 
Ahab  had  parted  as  friends  j  the  king  knew  himself  in- 
debted to  the  interposition  of  the  man  of  God  for  those 
refreshing  showers  which  had  revived  the  hopes  of  Is- 
rael, but  now  his  heart  told  him  that  he  had  nothing  to 
expect  but  frowns  from  heaven.  His  continued  idolatry, 
now  seconded  with  blood,  could  not  but  make  him  odious 
to  the  Lord  and  to  his  prophet ;  he  felt  that  himself  was 
an  enemy  to  God,  and  therefore  he  looks  for  neither 
peace  nor  friendship  at  the  hand  of  Elijah.  '^  Hast  thou 
killed,  and  also  taken  possession]  Thus  saith  the  Lord, 
In  the  place  where  dogs  licked  the  blood  of  j\faboth^  shall 
dogs  lick  ihy  bloody  even  thineP  Well  does  the  prophet 
charge  this  murder  on  Ahab.  He  knew  the  only  means 
by  which  Jezebel  could  obtain  the  vineyard  of  Naboth — 
he  knew  the  consequences  of  intrusting  his  signet  to  a 
merciless  woman.  He  was  accessary  to  the  crime  be- 
fore and  after  its  perpetration.  They  who  are  in  authori- 
ty may  offend  as  much  by  connivance  as  others  by  act; 
not  only  command,  but  even  permission  involves  them 
in  the  sins  which  they  might  have  prevented  and  would 
not.  The  Divine  law  punishes  by  retaliation — v.diat  Ahab 
hath  done  in  cruelty  he  shall  suffer  in  justice.  Naboth, 
however,  dies  in  his  integrity — Ahab  in  his  guilt.  Na- 
both bleeds  as  a  martyr — Ahab  as  an  assassin. 

Soon  does  the  battle  in  Ramoth-Gilead  afford  oppor- 
tunity for  the  infliction  of  this  sentence.  Neither  the 
personal  bravery  of  Ahab  nor  all  his  artful  stratagems 
can  avail  to  ward  off  the  fatal  blow.  An  arrow  shot  at 
random,  but  winged  with  Almighty  vengeance  reaches 
the  heart  of  the  disguised  tyrant.  O  the  just  and  mighty 
hand  of  that  Divine  providence  which  directs  all  things 
to  the  accomplishment  of  its  own  purpose  !  Too  late 
doth  Ahab  now  think  of  the  warnings  of  Elijah — too 
late  doth  he  regret  that  he  ever  listened  to  the  voice 
of  Jezebel  or  the  flatteries  of  apostate  prophets.    His 


186  EALl's   SCRIPTUUE    IIISTOSY. 

guilty  blood  runs  down  into  the  midst  of  his  chariot  and 
pays  the  arrear  to  Naboth — the  chariot  is  washed  in  the 
pool  of  Samaria — the  dogs  lick  up  the  blood  of  the  king 
of  Israel.  The  honor  of  God  is  justified — the  word 
of  his  prophet  is  fulfilled — the  death  of  his  servant  is 
avenged.  Righteous  art  thou,  O  Lord,  in  all  thy  ways, 
and  holy  in  all  thy  works ! 


40.— THE   ASCENT   OF  ELIJAH. 

Long  and  successfully  hath  Elijah  fought  the  good 
fight  of  faith,  and  nov/,  after  his  victories,  God  will  send 
him  a  chariot  of  triumph.  How  full  of  joy  was  the  soul 
of  the  prophet  when  he  was  in  immediate  expectation 
of  blessedness!  With  what  contempt  did  he  look  on 
that  earth  which  he  was  so  shortly  to  leave  !  With  what 
i^apture  did  he  cast  his  eyes  towards  that  heaven  which 
was  about  to  receive  him  ! 

As  the  last  public  act  of  his  mission  he  visits  the 
sons  of  the  prophets — those  whom  God  had  yet  se- 
lected from  an  apostate  nation  to  keep  alive  his  sacred 
truth. 

Elisha  resolves  to  accompany  his  master  in  all  his 
journey.  Thrice  is  he  dissuaded  from  this  act  of  zealous 
friendship — thrice  he  persists,  in  spite  of  entreaty  and 
even  command — Elijah,  who  expected  his  own  assump- 
tion into  heaven,  knew  not  what  witnesses  might  be 
permitted  to  behold  it — his  modest  humility  sought  an 
unnoted  and  silent  departure.  But  shall  we  not  pardon 
the  holy  disobedience  of  this  faithful  disciple  1  "As 
the  Lord  liveth,  and  as  thy  soul  liveth,  I  will  not  leave 
thee !"  His  master  may  be  withdrawn  from  him,  but  he 


THE    ASCENT    OF    ELIJAH.  187 

will  not  depart  from  his  master — lie  knew  that  the  bless- 
ing was  at  the  parting  j  and  will  not  consent  to  it. 

The  sons  of  the  prophets,  both  at  Bethel  and  Jericho, 
are  aware  of  what  shall  befall  Elijah.  His  departure  was 
nn  event  of  such  importance  that  it  was  necessary  to 
usher  it  in  with  tidings  of  preparation.  Elisha  has  nei- 
ther leisure  nor  inclination  to  hold  converse  with  his 
brethren — his  whole  thoughts,  as  well  as  his  eyes,  are 
fixed  on  his  departing  master.  Together  do  this  won- 
derful pair  arrive  at  the  banks  of  Jordan — while,  at  an 
awful  distance,  fifty  of  the  consecrated  band  pursue 
their  footsteps,  and  gaze  on  them  w'ith  respectful  vene- 
ration. Miracles  are  not  designed  for  obscurity :  God 
will  have  witnesses  to  his  marvellous  acts.  "When  the 
Savior  of  mankind  arose  from  the  dead,  he  was  seen  of 
more  than  five  hundred  brethren  at  once :  when  he  as- 
cended into  heaven  he  arose  from  the  Mount  of  Olives 
in  the  view  of  many  eyes — eyes  which  were  fixed  on 
that  astonishing  sight  with  such  intenseness  as  not  to 
be  recalled  from  it  even  by  the  approach  of  angels. 

How  exact  was  the  parallel  between  those  mighty 
prophets  who  were  afterwards  seen  in  glory  with  their 
Lord  upon  Mount  Tabor !  Both  received  visions  on  Ho- 
reb — to  each  of  them  God  appeared  there  in  fire,  earth- 
quakes, and  other  forms  of  terror.  Both  resorted  to  the 
wilderness — were  sent  on  embassies  from  heaven  to  re- 
bellious kings — dispensed  miraculous  food — were  zea- 
lous for  the  extermination  of  idolatry — quenched  the 
drought  of  Israel — divided  the  waters — finished  their 
glorious  labors  near  the  banks  of  Jordan.  The  body  of 
Elijah  is  translated — that  of  Moses  is  hidden — what  one 
effects  by  his  rod  the  other  can  accomplish  by  his  man- 
tle. With  this  he  smites  the  river,  and  bids  its  weaves 
retire  before  his  feet,  that  he  may  without  delay  ascend 
his  celestial  chariot. 

Now,  when  Elijah  feels  himself  treading   on  his  last 


188  hall's  scripture  history. 

earth  he  no  longer  addresses  his  faithful  associate  with 
words  of  discouragement.  ''  Ask  what  I  shall  do  for 
thee  before  I  be  taken  from  thee."  The  holy  prophei 
waits  not  long  for  a  reply — out  of  the  abundance  of  the 
heart  the  mouth  speaketh.  ''  I  pray  thee,  let  a  double 
portion  of  thy  spirit  fall  upon  me."  Elisha  demands  nei- 
ther wealth,  nor  safety,  nor  ease,  nor  honor — he  holds 
no  blessing  comparable  with  his  master's  spirit.  No  am- 
bition mingled  itself  with  the  fervent  request.  He  knew 
that  the  times  into  which  he  was  fallen  required  no  com- 
mon exertions — he  knew  that  the  successor  of  Elijah 
must  be  endued  with  the  spirit  of  miracles  as  well  as 
that  of  prophecy.  We  cannot  be  too  desirous  of  spirit- 
ual gifts,  especially  such  as  enable  us  to  promote  the 
glory  of  God  in  our  respective  stations.  Our  wishes 
are  the  touchstone  of  our  hearts — such  as  we  seek  to 
be,  we  are.  The  worldling  covets  earthly  things ;  the 
christian  those  which  are  Divine. 

Elijah  acknowledges  the  difficulty  of  the  request,  yet 
on  one  condition  promises  its  completion — '*  If  thou  see 
me,  when  I  am  taken  from  thee,  it  shall  be  so  unto  thee 
— if  not,  it  shall  not  be  so."  The  eye  of  Elisha  must  be 
fixed  in  attention,  that  his  faith  may  be  confirmed  by  the 
miracle  he  shall  behold.  If  his  thoughts  are  remiss,  if 
his  eye-lids  slumber,  his  hopes  are  cancelled — there 
must  be  more  than  common  vigilance  in  those  who 
desire  a  double  portion  of  heavenly  graces. 

Lo,  while  these  servants  of  God  are  thus  employed, 
the  chariot  of  fire  appears.  Elijah  is  summoned  from 
the  world  at  a  moment  when  he  is  instructing  another, 
not  praying  for  himself.  There  can  be  no  better  state  in 
which  the  minister  of  Christ  can  be  found  by  the  mes- 
senger of  dissolution,  than  that  of  diligence  in  his  sacred 
calling.  Attendance  on  these  duties  is  no  less  pleasing  to 
God  than  immediate  devotion.  Blessed  is  that  servant, 
vv^hom  his  Lord,  when  he  cometh,  shall  find  so  doing! 


THE    ASCENT    OF    ELIJAH.  189 

0  marvellous  display  of  celestial  splendor!  A\lio, 
save  Enoch  and  Elijah,  was  visibly  taken  np  to  eternal 
rest  1  What  glory  exceeded  theirs,  save  that  of  Him, 
who  by  his  ov.-n  immediate  power,  and  not  by  the  min- 
stry  of  ano^els,  raised  himself  far  above  the  heavens  1 


isi 


He  ascended  as  the  Son — they  as  servants.  He  ascended 
as  God — they  as  creatures.  By  their  reception  into 
heaven  we  are  assured  that  even  our  earthly  tabernacle 
may  be  admitted  into  the  regions  of  joy — in  their  case 
instantaneously,  by  the  command  of  God — in  ours,  after 
that  mysterious  exchange,  when  this  corruptible  shall 
put  on  incorruption,  and  this  mortal  shall  put  on  im- 
mortality. Hereafter  a  dUy  shall  come,  when  the  Son 
of  man  will  descend  from  heaven  with  a  shout,  with 
the  voice  of  the  Archangel  and  the  trump  of  God. 
Then  they  who  are  alive  and  remain  will  be  caught 
up  together,  with  the  raised  bodies  of  saints,  into  the 
clouds,  to  meet  the  Lord  in  the  air,  and  to  rejoice  for 
ever  in  his  glory.  At  that  awful  moment,  when  the  ele- 
ments shall  be  dissolved,  and  the  heavens  shall  be  in 
flames  around  him,  the  christian  will  lift  up  his  head  re- 
joicing, for  his  redemption  draweth  nigh.  Meantime, 
be  it  death,  or  fire,  or  whirlwind,  the  messenger  is  wel- 
come which  calls  him  to  immortality. 

Sudden  and  immediate  as  was  the  ascent  of  Elijah, 
his  disciple  can  yet  exclaim,  as  he  beholds  it,  '^  My  fa- 
ther, my  father,  the  chariot  of  Israel  and  the  horsemen 
thereof!"  The  glory  to  which  the  prophet  is  sum- 
moned cannot  altogether  bring  comfort  to  those  he 
leaves  behind  him.  While  he  is  yet  between  heaven 
and  earth,  the  son  of  his  adoption  rends  his  clothes  in  a 
transport  of  sorrow,  and  pities  the  desolation  of  Israel. 

The  mantle  of  Elijah  falls  from  him  as  he  is  rising. 
Elisha  takes  up  the  dear  memorial  of  his  glorified  mas- 
ter. With  this  he  had  been  invested  when  he  received 
his  Divine  appointment  to  the  ministry — it  now  comes 


190 

to  him,  as  it  were  from  heaven,  for  a  possession.  Sen- 
sible of  its  preternatural  value,  he  casts  it  reverently 
about  him— he  approaches  the  waters  of  Jordan — 
"  Where  is  the  Lord  God  of  Elijah  1"  As  if  he  had  said, 
"  Lord  God,  it  was  thy  promise,  by  my  departed  mas- 
ter, that  if  I  should  see  him  in  his  ascent,  a  double  por- 
tion of  his  spirit  should  rest  upon  me.  J  followed  him 
with  my  eyes  in  that  fire  and  whirlwind — now,  there- 
fore, O  God,  fulfill  thy  word  unto  thy  servant — show 
some  token  unto  me  for  good — make  this  the  first  proof 
of  that  miraculous  power  with  which  thou  hast  endued 
mc.  Let  Jordan  give  way  to  me,  as  it  gave  to  my  mas- 
ter!" Immediately  the  stream,  acknowledging  as  it 
were  the  same  mantle,  though  in  other  hands,  divides 
itself  and  yields  a  passage  to  the  highly-favored  Elisha. 
The  fifty  sons  of  the  prophets,  who  had  witnessed 
these  admirable  events,  are  not  slow  to  do  obeisance 
to  the  man  of  God — but,  full  of  zeal  as  well  as  reve- 
rence, they  would  fain  seek  for  the  departed  saint, 
as  if  the  Spirit  of  God  had  taken  him  to  some  remote 
mountain  or  valley — as  if  he  had  not  been  translated 
beyond  the  sphere  of  mortality.  For  awhile  Elisha  for- 
bids them,  till  their  vehemence  extorts  his  unwilling 
permission.  After  three  days'  anxious  search,  the  mes- 
sengers return,  abashed  and  weary;  no  longer  are  they 
deaf  to  conviction,  no  longer  insensible  of  their  master's 
happier  lot.  They  who  would  indeed  follow  Elijah, 
must  aspire  to  the  heavenly  Paradise;  they  must  walk 
in  the  ways  of  his  holy  and  constant  obedience  ;  they 
must  imitate  his  fidelity,  his  patience,  his  undaunted 
courage,  his  fervent  zeal;  so  shall  God  send  the  fiery 
chariot  of  death  to  translate  them  to  the  heaven  of 
heavens,  where  with  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  per- 
fect, and  with  Jesus,  the  mediator  of  a  better  covenant, 
they  shall  triumph  in  the  fulness  of  everlasting  glory. 


THE    SHUNAMMITE.  191 


41.— THE   SHUNAMMITE. 

"Into  whatsoever  city  or  town  ye  shall  enter,  inquire 
who  in  it  is  worthy,  and  there  abide  till  ye  go  thenoe." 
Such  was  the  injunction  delivered  by  our  Lord  to  the' 
earliest  preachers  of  Christianity.  Sometimes  they  were 
to  experience  the  persecution  which  befell  the  prophets 
of  old — sometimes  they  were  to  receive  the  same  kind 
olliccs  of  hospitality.  Elisha,  in  his  progress  through- 
out the  land  of  Israel,  finds  at  Shimcm  a  pious  family 
who  knew  how  to  vaUie  the  privilege  of  having  un- 
der their  roof  a  man  of  Gx>d.  AVith  this  venerable  pair 
(whose  names  are  lost,  while  their  virtues  are  recorded) 
the  prophet  was  received  in  the  name  of  a  prophet — he 
was  welcomed  as  a  frieii'i — he  v/as  hi^nored  as  a  father. 

The  Shunammite,  a  wealthy  and  religious  matron, 
finding  that  the  duties  of  Elisha's  public  character  called 
him  often  near  her  dwelling,  requests  her  husband  to 
prepare  for  their  guest  a  place  of  reception  suited  to 
the  simplicity  and  holiness  of  his  characier.  That  holi- 
ness made  her  ambitious  of  his  fiiendsliip — she  sought 
for  no  other  recompense  than  his  prayers. 

Blessed  of  God  is  that  man  who  in  the  partner  of  his 
life  finds  an  help  meet  for  him  in  the  way  towards  hea- 
ven. The  request  is  no  sooner  made  than  granted. 
The  tumult  of  a  numerous  family  was  unfit  for  the  quiet 
meditations  of  a  prophet — retirement  was  best  adapted 
to  one  v>'ho  held  familiar  converse  with  his  God. 

Elisha  is  not  so  fastidious  as  to  neglect  this  friendly 
ofier  of  accommodation.  He  gladly  talies  up  his  abode 
•with  persons  of  so  much  worth  j  and  pleased  with  his 
own  quiet  repose  and  their  hospitable  attention,  sends 
his  servant  Gehazi  with  a  message  expressive  of  his 
satisfaction  and  gratitude.  "  Behold,  thou  hast  been 
careful  for  us  with  all  this  care — what  is  to  be  done  for 


192  hall's  scripture  history. 

thee  1  Wilt  thou  be  spoken  for  to  the  king,  or  to  the 
captain  of  the  host  1"  An  ingenuous  disposition  cannot 
receive  favors  without  purpose  of  return.  Elisha,  who 
had  not  been  wanting  in  spiritual  duties,  gives  the 
Shunammite  her  choice  of  a  temporal  recompense. 

But  how  shall  the  prophet  find  such  favor  in  a  profli- 
gate court  as  to  promise  his  influence  with  the  king  in 
behalf  of  merit  1  The  time  was  when  his  illustrious 
predecessor  was  met  with  words  of  anger  and  de- 
fiance— "Hast  thou  found  me,  0  mine  e?iemyV^  But 
now  the  recent  miracle  -wrought  by  Elisha  in  favor  of 
Jehorara  (whose  armies  he  had  relieved  when  fainting 
with  thirst,  and  crowned  with  unexpected  victory)  gives 
him  no  difficulty  of  access  to  the  throne.  Faulty  as  was 
the  son  of  Ahab,  he  honored  the  prophet  of  God;  if  the 
Shunammite  desire  any  token  of  royal  favor,  she  shall 
need  no  other  solicitor  than  Elisha.  There  cannot  be  a 
better  office,  nor  one  more  becoming  a  prophet,  than 
to  speak  in  behalf  of  the  dumb,  to  befriend  and  patron- 
ise the  oppressed,  to  win  greatness  t-o  the  protection 
of  innocence. 

The  good  matron  is  not  insensible  of  Elisha's  kind- 
ness, but  modestly  declines  accepting  it — "  /  dicell 
among  mine  own  people.  Thy  courtesy  is  great  in  itself, 
but  not  useful  to  me.  I  live  quietly  in  a  contented  ob- 
scurity, out  of  the  reach  either  of  the  glories  or  cares 
of  a  court — free  from  wrongs,  free  from  envy.  Not  so 
high  as  to  provoke  an  evil  eye  ;  not  so  low  as  to  be 
trodden  on.  My  neighbors  are  my  friends — my  friends 
are  my  protectors— and,  if  I  should  be  so  imhappy  as 
to  meet  with  injurious  treatment,  would  not  fail  to  be 
my  advocates.  Thy  profTered  favor  is  for  those  who 
covet  grandeur  or  groan  under  oppression — I  do  nei- 
ther— I  dwell  among  mine  own  people."  0  Shunam- 
mite, who  can  hear  of  thine  happy  condition,  of  thy 
peaceful  contentment,  without  admiration  and  applause! 


THE    SHUNAMMITE.  193 

If  the  world  afford  any  perfect  felicity,  it  is  in  a  middle 
estate,  equally  distant  from  penury  and  from  excess — 
it  is  in  a  cahn  freedom,  a  secure  tranquillity,  a  thank- 
ful enjoyment  of  ourselves  and  all  that  is  ours. 

But,  alas,  by  how  frail  a  tenure  do  we  hold  the  best 
of  earthly  privileges'!  how  long  is  the  Shimammite  thus 
blessed  with  peace  1  The  day  is  not  far  distant  when 
she  shall  throw  herself,  a  miserable  suppliant,  at  the 
feet  of  the  king  of  Israel,  deprived  by  famine  and  ty- 
ranny of  all  those  possessions  which  afforded  her  such 
comfort.  They  who  seem  to  stand  securely  are  not  ex- 
empt from  danger — no  man  can  say  that  he  shall  not 
need  the  protection  of  friends.  Her  suit  would  have 
found  no  acceptance,  had  not  Gehazi,  in  the  absence  of 
Elisha,  interceded  for  her  with  the  king,  and  performed 
that  office  of  friendship  which  was  not  accepted  from 
his  master. 

Even  now,  in  her  more  prosperous  days,  the  Shu- 
nammite  was  not  exempt  from  sorrow.  She  was  child- 
less; she  was  a  stranger  to  that  tender  joy  which  fills 
the  maternal  bosom.  Elisha  shall  now  bring  her  glad 
tidings,  and  greet  her  with  the  promise  of  a  blessing 
she  deemed  incredible.  "  Thou  shalt  embrace  a  son." 

How  bounteous  is  the  mercy  of  God,  who  limits  not 
his  favors  to  our  thoughts,  but  gives  us  benefits  more 
than  we  presume  to  ask,  more  than  we  even  dare  ex- 
pect !  The  holy  matron  doubts,  from  excess  of  joy — 
^'Nay,  thou  man  of  God,  do  not  lie  unto  thine  hand- 
maid!" She  well  knew  that  the  prophet  was  incapable 
of  wilful  falsehood ;  but  she  thought  it  possible  that  a 
trial  of  her  faith  might  be  intended,  not  a  positive  as- 
sertion of  such  welcome  import !  Yet,  lo,  the  promise 
is  fulfilled;  at  the  time  appointed  the  Shunammite  bears 
a  son.  They  who  have  mourned  under  her  affliction  can 
best  conjecture  her  transports.  The  child  grows  up, 
and  is  now  able  to  attend  the  delighted  father  in  his 

Script.  Hiit.  9 


194?  hall's  scripture  history. 

rural  occupations,  and  to  share  the  ''joy  of  harvest/' 
O  the  instability  of  human  happiness !  The  hot  beams 
of  the  sun  beat  upon  that  head  which  too  much  care 
had  made  delicate.  The  child  complains  to  his  father 
of  his  pain ;  he  consigns  him  to  the  care  of  a  tender 
mother.  At  noon  her  son  expires  on  the  bosom  which 
had  preserved  his  infant-life  ;  to  which  he  had  so  often 
been  clasped  in  maternal  fondness. 

The  Shunammite  hath  lost  her  child;  her  faith  she 
hath  not  lost.  Passion  deprives  her  not  of  wisdom. 
With  a  presence  of  mind  beyond  all  praise  she  conceals 
her  anguish ;  she  demands  permission  of  her  husband 
to  repair  to  l\rount  Carmel ;  she  hastens  to  the  feet 
of  Elisha. 

The  man  of  God  sees  her  afar  off,  and  anxiously 
sends  Gehazi  to  inquire  after  her  welfare  and  that  of 
her  family.  She  has  no  words  for  the  messenger  of  Eli- 
sha ;  no  ear  shall  receive  her  complaint  but  that  of  the 
prophet.  The  long-suppressed  sorrow  bursts  forth  as 
she  embraces  those  venerable  knees:  '' Did  I  desire  a 
son  of  my  lord  \  Did  I  not  say.  Do  not  deceive  me?  O 
thou  servant  of  God,  had  I  with  undue  importunity'  so- 
licited the  blessing  I  have  lost,  had  I  wearied  heaven 
with  petulant  exclamations,  I  might  have  imagined  that 
the  gift  was  bestowed  on  me  in  anger.  I  might  have 
looked  forward  to  some  melancholy  reverse  of  fortune. 
But  since  thy  prayers,  not  my  complaints,  ascended  to 
the  throne  of  mercy,  since  they  were  heard  and  an- 
swered, was  I  to  expect  this  aggravation  of  torment  1 
Was  not  the  want  of  a  son  less  grievous  than  the  lossl 
Was  not  barrenness  itself  more  tolerable  than  such  a 
deprivation  l  Did  I  receive  my  child  for  no  other  pur- 
pose than  that  I  might  lament  him  ]  O  thou  man  of  God. 
let  that  same  intercession  which  procured  me  the  object 
of  my  love,  restore  him  to  my  arms ;  let  not  my  vene- 
ration for  thee  be   repaid  with  such   exquisite  misery. 


NAAMAN.  195 

Hasten,  in  the  spirit  and  power  of  Elijah,  to  console  a 
distracted  mother  ;  as  the  Lord  liveth,  and  as  thy  soul 
liveth,  I  will  not  leave  thee." 

O  noble  faith  of  the  Shunammitc,  not  to  be  discouraged 
by  death  itself,  raising  up  her  heart  to  an  expectation 
of  that  life  which  in  the  eye  of  nature  had  been  irrevo- 
cable, impossible  !  0  infinite  goodness  of  the  Almighty, 
which  would  not  suffer  such  faith  to  be  frustrated — 
which  chose  rather  to  reverse  the  laws  of  nature,  to 
raise  a  body  from  death,  to  recall  a  departed  spirit,  than 
that  the  confidence  of  a  believing  heart  should  be  disap- 
pointed !  We  adore  and  praise  thee,  O  God,  for  the 
gifts  and  graces  bestowed  on  these  thy  holy  prophets — 
glorious  fellow-laborers  in  the  vineyard,  through  whose 
powerful  intercession  with  thee  such  miracles  were  dis- 
played to  mankind — who  by  faith  wrought  righteous- 
ness, obtained  promises,  escaped  the  edge  of  the  sword, 
reproved  idolatrous  kings,  caused  water  to  spring  from 
the  earth,  and  fire  to  descend  from  the  skies — through 
whose  prayers  women  received  their  dead  raised  to  life 
again — who  had  one  mantle,  one  spirit— ^who  ascended 
one  Carmel,  one  heaven ! 


42.~NAAMAN. 

Greatness  can  secure  no  man  from  calamity.  Naaman 
was  a  great  warrior,  an  honorable  courtier,  the  distin- 
guished favorite  of  his  sovereign,  but  he  was  a  leper; 
and  under  the  pressure  of  this  loathsome  sickness  all 
his  valor,  dignity,  renown,  victories,  seem  only  an  ag- 
gravation of  his  sorrow.    The  God  of  Israel  looked  on 


196  hall's  scripture  history. 

this  Syrian  with  an  eye  of  pity,  and  his  Divine  provi- 
dence pointed  out  the  means  of  deliverance. 

The  captivity  of  a  poor  Hebrew  female  effects  this 
astonishing  work.  How  gaod  is  it  to  acquaint  our  chil- 
dren with  the  mercy  of  God !  Many  shall  hear  it  and 
fear,  and  shall  put  their  trust  in  the  Lord.  Removed 
from  the  land  of  her  nativity,  reduced  to  servitude,  a 
stranger  in  a  strange  country,  this  daughter  of  Israel 
forgets  not  Jehovah  or  his  servant.  '^  Would  God  mj^ 
Lord  were  with  the  prophet  in  Israel,  for  he  would  heal 
him  of  his  leprosy." 

The  word  was  not  spoken  in  vain.  The  king  of  Syria 
delays  not  to  send  his  favorite  with  letters  to  the  king 
of  Israel,  requiring  the  cure  from  his  hands.  The  Sy- 
rian imagined  that  what  a  subject  could  do  a  sovereign 
might  command :  proudly  does  he  signify  his  wishes, 
without  deigning  to  point  out  the  means  whereby  they 
may  be  effected.  "  Now  when  this  letter  is  come  unto 
thee,  behold  I  have  herewith  sent  Naaman  my  servant 
to  thee,  that  thou  mayst  recover  him  of  his  leprosy." 

Jehoram  rends  his  clothes  in  terror  and  amazement. 
"  Am  I  God,"  saith  he,  '^  to  kill,  and  to  make  alive  1" 
To  require  that  of  a  mortal  which  is  proper  only  to  the 
Almighty,  is  a  manifest  derogation  from  that  power 
which  belongeth  unto  God.  Had  Jehoram  been  truly 
religious,  the  injury  done  to  his  Maker  would  have  more 
affected  him  than  his  own  personal  danger.  He  was  not 
unacquainted  with  the  virtue  of  Elisha's  prayers — he 
had  himself  experienced  their  efficacy — yet  must  that 
service  be  proffered  which  ought  to  have  been  instantly 
and  earnestly  requested.  '^  Wherefore  hast  thou  rent  thy 
clothes'?  Let  him  come  now  to  me,  and  he  shall  know 
that  there  is  a  prophet  in  Israel." 

We  must  not  set  too  great  a  value  on  our  own  dignity 
where  we  expect  a  benefit.  Naaman  comes  richly  at- 
tended, with  his  troop  of  servants  and  horses,  and  waits 


NAAMAN.  197 

in  his  chariot  at  the  door  of  Elisha.  The  prophet  re- 
ceives him  not  under  his  roof,  nor  does  he  even  go  forth 
to  do  honor  to  this  illustrious  stranger.  He  will  make 
trial  both  of  his  faith  and  his  humility.  "  Go,  wash  in 
Jordan  seven  times,  and  thou  shalt  be  clean." 

Naaman  departs  in  transports  of  fury — he  considers 
the  word  as  uttered  in  scorn.  "  Can  water  cleanse  from 
leprosy  1  Is  Jordan  more  medicinal  than  other  streams'? 
Am  I  come  thus  far  to  be  insulted  by  an  Israelite  1  Is 
this  the  event  of  my  journey  and  the  letters  of  my  kingl 
Could  this  prophet  find  none  but  Naaman  to  treat  with 
indignity  1  Had  he  meant  seriously,  why  did  he  not 
condescend  to  come  forfh  to  me  1  Why  did  he  not 
touch  me  ,with  his  hand,  and  bless  me  with  his  prayers, 
and  heal  me  with  his  blessing  1  Is  my  misery  fit  for  his 
derision  1  If  water  could  remove  it,  why  did  I  leave  my 
native  country  1  Are  not  Abana  and  Pharpar,  rivers  of 
Damascus,  better  than  all  the  waters  of  Israel  ]"  Folly 
and  pride  strive  for  mastery  in  the  carnal  heart,  and  it  is 
hard  to  say  which  is  most  predominant.  The  natural 
man  is  altogether  led  by  his  outward  senses — judges  of 
all  objects  by  the  mere  appearance — acquaints  not  him- 
self with  God — adheres  obstinately  to  his  own  false  prin- 
ciples— disdains  the  supposed  inferiority  of  others — up- 
braids them  with  proud  and  insulting  boasts  of  his  ima- 
gined excellence.  To  such  a  man  the  doctrine,  the  ser- 
vices, the  ordinances  of  Christ  are  objects  of  contempt 
and  ridicule.  He  looks  on  Jordan  with  Syrian  eyes,  one 
drop  of  which,  set  apart  by  Divine  ordination,  has  more 
real  virtue,  more  saving  efficacy,  than  all  the  waters  of 
Abana  and  Pharpar. 

Happy  are  they  who,  whatever  be  the  station  of  the 
adviser,  disdain  not  to  listen  to  wholesome  admonition. 
The  servants  of  Naaman  prove  his  best  and  most  valua- 
ble friends.  They  fear  not  to  approach  him  in  the  height 
of  his  indignation.    "  ^ly  father,  if  the  prophet  had  bid 


198  hall's  scripture  history. 

thee  do  some  great  thing,  wouldst  thou  not  have  done 
it  1  How  much  rather  then,  when  he  saith  to  thee,  Wash 
and  be  clean  ?"  These  men  consulted  not  the  passion 
but  the  welfare  of  their  lord  ;  they  would  rather  advise 
than  flatter — rather  exhort  him  to  good  than  follow  him 
to  evil.  Since  it  was  a  prophet  from  whom  he  received 
the  injunction,  they  entreat  him  not  to  despise  it.  They 
alledge  that  the  simplicity  of  the  proposed  remedy  was 
no  argument  against  its  efficacy  while  the  power  of  him 
who  prescribed  it  was  supernatural.  They  tell  him  that 
the  virtue  of  the  cure  depended  on  his  own  faith  and  obe- 
dience, not  on  the  outward  means  suggested  by  Elisha. 
They  persuade,  and  prevail.  Naaman  goes  down,  at  their 
earnest  persuasion,  and  dips  himself  seven  times  in  Jor- 
dan. Next  to  God  and  the  prophet,  he  may  thank  his 
attendants  that  he  is  no  longer  a  leper.  His  unjust  fury 
has  not  prevented  his  recovery ;  the  word  of  Jehovah 
and  of  his  consecrated  servant  stands  sure,  in  spite  of 
mortal  petulance  and  presumption.  Long  might  Naaman 
have  washed  there  in  vain  if  Elisha  had  not  sent  him : 
many  a  leper  had  bathed  in  those  waters  and  remained 
unclean.  It  is  the  ordinance  of  God  which  gives  effect 
to  what  in  itself  is  weak  and  inadequate  to  its  purpose. 
Naaman  departed  in  rage ;  he  returns  filled  with  hu- 
mility and  gratitude.  His  heart  is  no  less  purified  from 
turbulent  passions  than  his  body  from  sickness.  He  re- 
turns not  to  the  royal  court  either  of  Benhadad  or  Je- 
horam  ;  he  will  not  even  make  his  family  partakers  of 
his  joy  till  he  has  presented  himself  before  that  holy 
prophet,  once  the  object  of  indignation,  now  of  reveren- 
tial love.  The  man  of  God  admits  the  recovered  Syrian, 
though  he  refused  to  see  the  leper.  Purposely  did  he 
decline  the  former  interview,  that  he  might  share  no  part 
of  the  praise  with  his  Maker — that  he  might  hear  this 
noble  confession  in  its  full  force,  ''Behold,  now  I  know 
that  there  is  no  God  in  all  the  earth  but  in  Israel." 


NAAMAN.  199 

But  while  Naaman  thus  does  homage  to  the  Author 
of  his  cure,  he  will  not  forget  the  instrument.  Richly 
furnished  with  silver,  and  gold,  and  raiment,  he  will  not 
confine  himself  to  barren  acknowledgments.  Some  tes- 
timony of  his  thankfulness  he  is  anxious  to  leave  behind 
him,  though  all  earthly  recompense  fall  short  of  the 
benefit  received.  ''  I  pray  thee,  take  a  blessing  of  thy 
servant." 

The  holy  prophet,  with  a  degree  of  honest  vehemence, 
refuses  to  accept  these  free-will  offerings  of  gratitude  j 
not  that  he  deemed  it  unlawful,  but  in  the  present  in- 
stance inexpedient.  He  would  have  his  new  convert  see 
cause  to  be  more  enamored  of  true  piety,  which  teaches 
her  children  to  contemn  those  riches  and  honors  that 
are  adored  by  worldlings;  and  would  impress  upon  his 
mind  that  the  gifts  of  God  are  neither  to  be  purchased 
nor  rewarded  with  money* 

Naaman  acquiesces  and  departs.  He  goes,  resolved 
to  profess  himself  an  Israelite  in  religion.  All  the  court 
of  Syria  shall  know  that  he  sacrifices  on  consecrated 
earth  to  the  God  of  Israel ;  they  shall  hear  him  protest 
that  he  has  neither  heart  nor  knee  for  Rimmon.  If  he 
must  go  into  the  house  of  that  idol,  it  shall  be  of  ne- 
cessity, not  of  choice  ;  his  duty  to  his  master  shall  carry 
him,  not  his  devotion  to  his  master's  god.  Yet  had  not 
Naaman  deemed  this  a  fault  he  would  not  have  requested 
pardon.  His  heart  told  him  that  a  perfect  convert  should 
have  abhorred  the  temple,  the  sight  of  Rimmon ;  that 
his  obedience  to  an  earthly  master  should  not  draw  him 
to  any  secondary  observance  of  idolatry — that  a  sincere 
detestation  of  sin  was  utterly  inconsistent  with  this 
temporizing  submission. 

Far,  therefore,  is  Naaman  from  being  an  example,  save 
of  weakness ;  he  is  yet  more  than  half  a  Syrian — he  is 
a  babe,  unskilful  in  the  word  of  righteousness.  The  pro- 
phet, who  would  have  rebuked  an  Israelite^  will  not  ob- 


200  hall's  scripture  history. 

scure  the  dawn  of  a  heathen's  conversion.  He  dismisses 
him  in  the  accustomed  terms  of  valediction.  They  are 
parted. 

Gehazi  cannot  thus  take  his  leave.  His  heart  is  in 
the  treasure  of  Naaman.  He  deems  his  lord  frantic  for 
refusing  the  proffered  gifts.  He  runs  with  guilty  speed 
that  he  may  recover  a  part  of  the  booty.  Naaman  sees 
him,  and  spares  not  to  humble  himself  before  the  ser- 
vant of  Elisha.  The  half-breathless  messenger  utters 
his  plausible  fiction — receives  a  boon  beyond  his  utmost 
wishes — returns  with  the  glittering  load,  and,  when  he 
has  secreted  it,  stands  boldly  before  his  master.  O  Ge- 
hazi, couldst  thou  so  long  have  poured  water  on  the 
hands  of  Elisha,  and  still  be  ignorant  of  that  eye  of  Pro- 
vidence which  was  ever  fixed  upon  thy  heart  1  Didst 
thou  not  know  that  thy  paths  were  overlooked  by  invi- 
sible witnesses  1  Couldst  thou  hope  to  delude  God  and 
his  prophet  1  Hear  then  thy  sentence,  and  be  convinced 
to  thy  confusion :  "  Thou  wouldst  take  part  of  Naaman's 
treasure^  thou  shalt  inherit  his  loathsome  infirmity.  As 
a  monument  of  thy  guilt,  and  as  a  proof  that  God  is  not 
mocked,  the  leprosy  of  Naaman  shall  cleave  unto  thee, 
and  to  thy  seed  for  ever." 


43.— JEHU. 

For  a  long  series  of  years  had  the  crimes  of  Ahab's 
family  caused  horror  and  consternation  in  Israel.  At 
last  the  measure  of  their  enormities  is  full.  The  Divine 
mercy  will  be  scorned  and  insulted  no  longer.  Reproofs, 
admonitions,  judgments,  deliverances,  have  all  failed  of 


JEHU.  20 1 

their  effect.  What  remains,  but  that  the  offended  jus- 
tice of  heaven  take  its  course  1  Awake,  awake,  put  on 
strength,  O  arm  of  the  Lord.  It  is  time  for  thee  to  work, 
for  they  have  made  void  thy  law.  Arise,  O  God,  main- 
tain thine  own  cause.  The  presumption  of  them  that 
hate  thee  increaseth  more  and  more. 

The  voice  of  inspiration  had  long  since  commanded 
Elijah  to  anoint  Jehu  king  over  Israel.  The  disciple  of 
Elijah  was  no  doubt  commissioned  by  his  master  to  ac- 
complish whatever  his  own  sudden  translation  to  glory 
had  left  unfinished.  What  could  be  a  more  convenient 
time  for  this  purpose,  than  when  the  army  of  Israel 
were  assembled  under  the  command  of  Jehu,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  the  wounded  Jehoram.  A  moment  now  lost 
might  have  been  irrecoverable.  Elisha  sends  a  messen- 
ger in  haste  to  Kamoth-Gilead  to  pour  the  consecrated 
oil  on  the  head  of  the  unsuspecting  warrior. 

No  sooner  is  the  young  prophet  arrived  at  the  place 
of  his  destination,  than  he  calls  Jehu  from  his  assem- 
bled companions.  The  wisdom  of  God  fixed  on  a  mo- 
ment Avhen  the  public  view  of  a  sacred  messenger,  and 
the  mysterious  nature  of  the  conference  he  demanded, 
might  prepare  the  hearts  of  these  commanders  of  Israel 
to  the  expectation  of  some  great  design. 

Now  shall  the  blood  of  the  prophets  be  avenged  on 
Jezebel;  the  tyranny  and  idolatry  of  the  house  of  Ahab 
shall  bring  destruction  on  their  heads.  Ahab  shall  have 
no  posterity,  Jezebel  no  tomb.  The  long-threatened, 
long-delayed  vengeance,  \vhen  it  seemed  forgotten  by 
God  and  man,  falls  at  once  in  all  its  terrors  on  this  im- 
pious family. 

The  prophet  has  fulfilled  his  ministry,  and  is  gone. 
Jehu  returns  to  his  impatient  companions,  who  cannot 
for  a  moment  restrain  their  curiosity.  '^  Is  all  well '? 
Wherefore  came  this  mad  fellow  to  thee  V  The  pro- 
phets of  God  were  to  these  idolatrous  Israelites  like 

9* 


2C2  hall's  scripture  history. 

meteors — their  appearance  seemed  to  portend  only  de- 
struction. While  the  priests  of  Baal  sacrifice,  all  is  well ; 
but  when  the  servant  of  Jehovah  presents  himself,  their 
guilt  vainly  attempts  to  shelter  its  terrors  under  the  af- 
fectation of  contempt. 

The  message  was  not  given  to  Jehu  for  concealment. 
The  habit  of  the  stranger  had  sufficiently  declared  him 
a  prophet.  Their  general  acquaints  them  with  all  the 
circumstances  of  the  momentous  interview — tells  them 
of  the  prediction — presents  himself  to  them  as  their 
lawful  sovereign,  anointed  by  the  direction  of  God  to 
drive  the  race  of  usurpers  from  a  throne  polluted  by 
their  crimes. 

Scarcely  had  the  captains  of  the  host  heard  the  con- 
clusion of  the  story,  ere  they  rise  from  their  seats, 
moved  by  some  Divine  impulse,  and  instantly  seize 
their  arms  :  a  throne  is  raised  for  Jehu — the  leaders  of 
Israel  vie  with  each  other  in  their  zeal  to  do  him  ho- 
mage— they  proclaim  with  sound  of  trumpet,  "Jehu  is 
KING  !"  Mad  as  they  pronounce  the  prophet,  at  his  word 
they  adventure  their  lives  and  allot  the  royal  dignity. 
God  gives  a  secret  authority  to  his  despised  servants ; 
they  who  hate  their  persons  will  yet  respect  the  truths 
they  are  commissioned  to  impart.  Even  scorners  can- 
not but  reverence  the  faithful  ambassadors  of  Christ. 

Jehu  is  no  less  wise  than  valiant.  He  determines  to 
surprise  Jehoram  in  the  palace  of  Jezreel  before  any 
messenger  can  carry  intelligence  of  his  inauguration. 
"While  the  trumpets  are  yet  sounding  he  ascends  his 
chariot. 

Ahaziah,  king  of  Judah,  too  nearly  connected  with 
Jehoram  in  manners  as  well  as  blood,  was  at  this  time 
feasting  in  Jezreel.  The  watchman  on  the  tower  espies 
a  company.  All  was  supposed  to  be  at  peace  in  Israel — 
Judah  was  so  closely  joined  to  it  in  bands  of  amity,  that 
the  two  monarchs  were  under  one  roof,  as  friends  and 


JEHU.  203 

brethren — yet  an  alarm  is  hastily  given.  Jehoram 
knows  not  whether  the  approaching  multitude  consists 
of  Syrians  who  have  recovered  Ramoth,  or  of  his  own 
vanquished  subjects,  or  of  conspirators  against  his  per- 
son and  throne.  The  messengers  he  sends  to  meet  them 
are  forcibly  detained.  The  king  of  Israel  forgets  his 
wounds  and  goes  himself  in  search  of  death. 

Yet  when  he  sees  the  captain  of  his  armies,  hope 
contends  with  fear  and  apprehension — "  Is  it  peace,  Je- 
hu ?  What  means  this  sudden  journey  1  Is  the  army 
defeated  by  the  Syrians  1  Have  they  retaken  Ramoth- 
Gileadl  Has  the  dispersion  of  the  enemy  left  thee  no 
room  to  display  thy  valor]  Or  is  thy  speed  occasioned 
by  some  unexpected  misfortune  V 

There  scarcely  needs  an  answer.  Fury  sparkles  in 
the  eyes  of  Jehu  ;  his  look  is  the  harbinger  o(  destruc- 
tion to  his  adversary — ^'  What  peace,  so  long  as  the 
whoredoms  of  thy  mother  Jezebel  and  her  witchcrafts 
are  so  manyV 

"  Why  speakest  thou  o(  peace  with  men,  inhuman 
tyrant,  who  hast  so  long  waged  war  with  God  1  Thine 
accursed  mother  trained  thee  up  to  blood,  and  inured 
thee  to  impious  idolatry.  Her  crimes,  her  cruelties  are 
thine — thou  art  corrupted  by  her  abominations  ;  thou  art 
enchanted  by  her  sorceries.  The  just  God,  whom  thou 
and  thy  parents  have  daringly  blasphemed,  sends  thee 
by  me,  this  last  message  of  his  vengeance." 

While  he  speaks,  his  hand  is  drawing  the  fatal  arrow 
from  his  quiver.  Too  late  doth  Jehoram  turn  his  chariot 
and  flee.  Too  late  does  the  traitor  to  God  complain  of 
Jehu's  treason.  The  weapon  is  directed  to  his  heart,  it 
is  fixed  there  by  the  unerring  arm  of  Divine  retribution. 

How  just  are  the  judgments  of  God!  It  was  in  the 
field  of  Naboth  that  Jehu  met  with  Jehoram.  That  pro- 
phecy, which  he  had  heard  pronounced  by  Elijah  to 
Ahab,  his  own  hand  has  now  accomplished.    The  blood 


204«  hall's  scripture  history. 

of  Jehoram  falls  on  that  ground  which  had  been  tyran- 
nously  seized  by  the  father,  and  which  the  son  had  nei- 
ther the  piety  nor  the  justice  to  restore. 

It  was  time  for  Ahaziah  to  flee.  Long  since  should 
he  have  withdrawn  himself  from  the  crimes  of  the  house 
of  Ahab.  He  partakes  in  their  sin ;  he  partakes  in  their 
punishment.  The  impious  alliance  brings  its  too  well- 
deserved  wages.  The  king  of  Judah,  who  had  accompa- 
nied Jehoram  in  his  idolatries,  accompanies  him  also  in 
his  death. 

What  now  shall  become  of  Jezebel  1  Will  she  not  be- 
take herself  to  sackcloth  and  ashes,  when  she  hears  of 
the  untimely  fate  of  her  son,  the  degradation  of  her 
family,  the  success  of  her  prosperous  rivall  Will  she 
not  cast  herself  as  a  suppliant  at  the  feet  of  Jehu,  and 
implore  him  to  spare  her  life,  (though  sullied  with  such 
various  guilt,)  in  pity  to  her  age  and  the  dignity  w^ith 
which  she  was  invested  ]  Will  she  not  petition  for  her 
yet  surviving  children  1  Far  otherwise.  Her  proud 
heart  is  incapable  of  submission.  She  collects  her 
haughty  spirits,  and,  instead  of  humbling  her  soul  by  re- 
pentance, or  preparing  for  instant  death,  she  seeks  to 
daunt  the  courage  of  this  conqueror  by  the  sudden 
beams  of  majesty.  She  looks  down  upon  him  with  in- 
solent disdain — challenges  him  as  a  traitor-^calls  to  his 
remembrance  the  short-lived  glories  of  Zimri,  who  slew 
his  master — forgets  that  her  own  life  is  in  his  hands,  and 
that  she  has  no  dependence  but  on  his  clemency. 

The  resolution  of  Jehu  was  not  to  be  shaken  by  a 
painted  face  or  an  opprobrious  tongue.  He  looks  up 
and  commands  the  fawning  minions  of  Jezebel,  who 
stood  around  her,  to  cast  her  down  headlong.  Who  shall 
trust  the  venal  services  of  a  treacherous  heart  1  Long 
had  these  eunuchs  bent  their  knee  in  humble  obsequi- 
ousness to  the  queen  of  Israel — now,  at  the  call  of  a 
triumphant  enemy,  they  forget  her  royalty  and  their  own 


ATIIALIAH.  205 

allegiance,  and  consign  her,  as  willing  executioners,  to 
her  miserable  fate.  Such  was  the  fall  of  pride — so  perish- 
ed the  insolent,  the  idolatrous,  the  sanguinary  Jezebel! 

Death  puts  an  end  to  all  dipleasure.  Jehu,  who  spared 
not  the  life  of  this  impious  woman,  will  not  forget  her 
sepulture.  Though  the  tranquillity  of  his  kingdom  and 
his  personal  safety  \vould  not  suffer  him  to  pardon  her, 
he  commands  her  to  be  interred  as  a  Zidonian  princess, 
the  daughter,  wife  and  mother  of  kings.  The  dogs  have 
already  prevented  him  in  his  purpose.  The  word  of 
Elijah  is  fully  verified — the  dreadful  sentence  is  literally 
fulfilled — the  blood  of  Naboth  and  of  the  prophets  is 
fearfully  required. 

Righteous  art  thou,  O  God,  and  just  are  thy  judg- 
ments! 


44.— A  THALIA  H. 

Now  is  Jehu  peaceably  settled  on  the  throne  of  Israel, 
^lankind  no  longer  tremble  at  the  enormities  of  the 
house  of  Ahab.  The  sacrilegious  rites  of  Baal  are  ban- 
ished out  of  the  land.  The  sword  of  Divine  justice  re- 
turns into  its  scabbard — it  is  at  rest — it  is  still. 

Unambitious  of  further  conquests,  the  king  forbears 
to  take  advantage  of  those  confusions  into  which  the 
neighboring  empire  is  thrown  by  the  death  of  Ahaziah. 
He  has  finished  the  task  for  which  the  prophetic  voice 
appointed  him — he  has  prospered  in  the  work  he  vv'as 
commissioned  to  perform.  Idolatry  and  tyranny  are 
heard  of  no  more.  Had  he  but  reformed  as  well  as  re- 
stored the  \vorship  of  Jehovah — had  he  destroyed  the 
imajres  of  Jeroboam  as  well  as  the  idols  of  Ahab,  the 


206  hall's  scripture  history. 

blessing  of  the  house  of  David  would  have  fallen  on  his 
head  and  on  his  remote  descendants. 

But,  alas,  the  heart  of  Jehu  was  not  perfect  with  God. 
He  fears  to  deviate  from  the  fatal  policy  of  his  prede- 
cessors. He  dares  not  commit  his  way  unto  the  Lord 
— he  dares  not  bid  the  tribes  go  up  to  worship  at  Jeru- 
salem. Yet  shall  his  obedience,  partial  as  it  is,  not  fail 
of  a  temporal  reward.  Four  generations  of  his  posterity 
shall  sit  on  the  throne  of  Israel  before  the  family  of  Jehu 
is  extinctj  like  that  of  Omri,  of  Baasha,  and  of  the  son 
of  Nebat. 

In  the  meantime  what  scenes  of  horror  are  passing  in 
the  kingdom  of  Judah !  How  truly  is  Athaliah  the  sis- 
ter of  Jezebel,  in  soul  as  well  as  alliance !  To  her  care 
the  sceptre  had  been  committed  by  her  son  when  he  de- 
parted to  assist  Jehoram  in  war.  Ahaziah  was  fallen — 
his  brethren  were  no  more — they  perished  by  the  hand 
of  Jehu.  See  2  Kings,  10  :  13,  14.  Who  would  not  pity 
the  sorrows  of  the  disconsolate  Athaliah  1  Who  would 
not  imagine,  that  when  the  first  transports  of  her  grief 
were  over  she  would  seek  with  avidity  her  only  remain- 
ing comfort,  the  society  of  those  dear  and  innocent  chil- 
dren whose  early  orphanage  called  for  a  more  than  com- 
mon share  of  tenderness  from  the  mother  of  their  slaugh- 
tered parent "?  She  does  indeed  betake  herself  to  the 
place  of  their  abode — she  repairs  thither  to  feast  her 
eyes  with  death  and  assassination.  O  the  cruelty  of  aa 
ambitious  heart!  To  secure  herself  in  the  royal  dignity 
the  barbarian  can  command,  can  even  witness  a  deed  of 
so  atrocious  a  nature  as  is  altogether  unparalleled  in  the 
annals  of  mankind. 

In  the  horrors  of  a  siege,  in  the  ravages  of  famine, 
the  hands  of  miserable  women  have  fastened  on  their 
offspring ;  alas !  here  was  nothing  but  the  craving  of 
pride — nothing  but  an  execrable  thirst  for  sovereignty. 
"Even  the  sea-monsters  draw  out  the  breast,  they  give 


ATHALIAH.  207 

suck  to  their  brood ;"  even  the  lion,  who  fills  his  holes 
with  prey  and  his  dens  with  rapine,  takes  the  spoil  and 
tears  it  in  pieces  for  his  young  ones.  Their  cruelties  are 
tender  mercies  in  comparison  with  those  of  the  daugh- 
ter of  Omri.  Zion  spreadeth  forth  her  hands,  and  there 
is  none  to  comfort  her — her  eyes  do  fail  with  tears,  be- 
cause the  children  and  the  sucklings  perish  in  the  streets 
of  Jerusalem.  How  is  the  faithful  city  covered  with  a 
cloud  of  sorrow!  It  was  full  of  judgment,  righteous- 
ness lodged  in  it,  but  now  murderers.  Her  adversaries 
are  the  chief,  her  enemies  prosper,  her  priests  sigh,  her 
virgins  are  afflicted,  and  §he  is  in  bitterness. 

Wicked  Athaliah !  dost  thou  think  that  God  has  for- 
gotten his  servant  David,  and  the  terms  of  his  holy  co- 
venant \  Shall  thy  guilty  zeal  for  Baal,  or  thine  inordi- 
nate lust  of  empire,  root  out  all  the  posterity  of  the  son 
of  Jesse  ]  The  man  after  God's  own  heart  shall  have  a 
lineal  heir  to  sit  in  his  throne  when  thou  and  thy  father's 
house  shall  have  perished — when  the  records  of  thy 
guilt  shall  alone  preserve  thee  from  oblivion. 

Happy  was  it  for  Israel  that  the  crown  disdained  not 
to  hold  alliance  with  the  temple.  The  sister  of  Ahaziah 
thought  it  no  degradation  to  her  dignity  to  become  the 
wife  of  Jehoiada  the  high-priest.  No  sooner  is  this  royal 
matron  acquainted  with  the  recent  massacre  than  she 
hastens  into  the  chamber  of  death.  Athaliah  had  already 
retired,  assured  that  the  bloody  w^ork  was  accomplished. 
Jehosheba  perceives  a  spark  of  life  not  utterly  extin- 
guished in  the  heart  of  the  infant  Joash — she  boldly 
takes  him  from  among  the  slain — she  recalls  his  depart- 
ing spirit — she  commits  him  to  the  protection  of  her 
husband.  God  looks  down  from  heaven  upon  the  strata- 
gems of  tyrants,  and  confounds  them  in  their  ou-n  de- 
vices. The  word  hath  gone  forth  to  David,  "  Of  the 
fruit  of  thy  body  will  I  set  upon  thy  throne  j"  in  vain 
ehall  earth  or  hell  conspire  to  frustrate  it. 


208  hall's  scripture  history. 

Six  years  does  Judah  groan  under  the  tyranny  of  an 
idolatrous  woman — so  long  is  the  lawful  sovereign  con- 
cealed in  the  recesses  of  the  temple,  into  which  the 
worshippers  of  Baal  disdained  to  enter.  Jehoiada  now 
thinks  fit  to  assert  that  title  which  had  been  lost  in  usur- 
pation. Ambition  might  have  prompted  him  to  continue 
Joash  in  obscurity,  and  advanced  his  v*^ife,  the  daughter 
of  Jehoram,  to  the  throne ;  his  heart  has  far  other  ob- 
jects in  its  view.  He  assembles  the  scattered  remains 
of  those  servants  of  God  on  whose  zeal  and  piety  he 
could  depend ;  he  gives  every  one  his  charge ;  he  dis- 
poses all  things  for  the  safety  of  the  prince,  the  punish- 
ment of  Athaliah,  the  prevention  of  tumult,  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  royal  authority  on  the  head  of  Joash  in 
peace  and  joy. 

All  things  are  now  ready  for  the  solemnity.  Every 
heart  pants  for  the  approach  of  the  long-concealed  sove- 
reign to  his  inauguration.  Every  one  vows  to  devote 
his  life  to  the  service  of  his  lawful  king.  At  length  Je- 
hoiada presents  him  to  the  assembly  in  the  temple. 
Scarcely  can  the  multitude  refrain  from  shouting  aloud 
too  soon.  One  traces  in  his  countenance  the  features  of 
his  father  Ahaziah — another  those  of  Jehoram-^ while 
the  more  aged  warriors  dwell  fondly  on  his  fancied  re- 
semblance to  their  beloved  master,  the  great  and  good 
Jehosliaphat.  All  find  in  his  face  the  natural  impres- 
sions of  majesty — all  read  in  it  the  most  auspicious  pro- 
mise of  future  happiness.  Jehoiada,  with  joyful  haste, 
proceeds  to  his  coronation.  The  holj^  oil  is  poured  on 
his  head — the  diadem  is  placed  on  his  brows — the  book 
of  the  law  is  presented  to  his  hand.  By  these  instructive 
ceremonies  he  was  taught  to  entertain  a  proper  sense  of 
the  calling  of  God,  the  dignity  of  his  own  character, 
and  the  importance  of  that  Divine  word  by  which  all  his 
actions  should  be  regulated. 

Now  do  the   people   clap  their  hands  and  burst  out 


^TIIALIAH.  209 

with  loud  acclamations  of  joy.  From  the  recesses  of 
her  palace  Athaliah  hears  the  shouts  of  the  multitude, 
the  noise  of  trumpets,  the  tumult  of  applause.  Instantly 
she  repairs  to  the  temple,  on  whose  threshold  her  feet 
had  probably  never  trodden.  Those  honest  hearts  which 
had  devoted  themselves  to  their  king  and  their  God  had 
agreed  in  religious  secresy.  No  circumstance  had  trans- 
pired. Tyranny  itself  wms  devoid  of  suspicion.  Atha- 
liah feared  not  to  approach  those  hallowed  walls  alone 
and  unattended. 

What  a  spectacle  for  an  impious  usurper !  She  hears 
the  multitude  exclaiming,  "  God  save  the  king!"  She 
sees  the  heir  to  the  kingdom  sitting  on  his  throne,  in- 
vested with  all  the  insignia  of  royalty,  guarded  by  a 
faithful  band  of  soldiers,  proclaimed  with  trumpets,  hail- 
ed by  the  joyful  shouts  of  the  people. 

As  if  that  voice  of  hers  might  command  all  hearts, 
all  hands,  she  rends  her  robes  and  cries,  "  Treason,  trea- 
son !"  O  Athaliah,  of  whom  dost  thou  complain  1  Thine 
was  the  treason,  theirs  is  justice.  The  true  son  of  Aha- 
ziah,  whom  thy  cruelty  sought  to  number  w'ith  the  dead, 
now  sits  on  his  father's  throne.  The  time  is  now  come 
when  the  royal  blood  of  Judah,  shed  by  thine  hand,  shall 
be  requited — when  thy  life  shall  justly  pay  the  forfeit  of 
thine  unnatural  conspiracy. 

There  needs  no  regularity  of  trial.  Jehoiada,  the 
priest  of  God,  the  near  kinsman  and  protector  of  the 
young  monarch,  by  no  undue  exercise  of  his  delegated 
authority  consigns  the  criminal  to  justice.  Not  a  sword 
is  drawn  in  her  behalf — no  heart  pities,  no  eye  bewails 
her.  The  God  of  righteousness  maketh  inquisition  for 
innocent  blood.  The  wicked  is  reserved  to  the  day  of 
destruction ;  suddenly  doth  he  consume,  perish,  and 
come  to  a  fearful  end. 

Every  thing  now  wears  the  face  of  tranquillity.  Again 
is  Judah  restored  to  itself,  after  so  long  a  deprivation. 


210 

The  people  scarcely  believe  their  own  eyes  for  joy  and 
wonder.  Jehoiada  takes  advantage,  of  these  favorable 
impressions.  He  employs  his  influence  for  the  public 
good.  He  calls  upon  the  people  to  renew  the  covenant 
with  their  God  at  the  solemn  moment  \vhen  they  vow 
allegiance  to  their  king.  Their  zeal  casts  down  the 
temples  and  altars  of  idolatry — Jehovah  is  the  sole  ob- 
ject of  religious  adoration — Baal  is  destroyed  out  of 
Judah  as  well  as  Israel. 


45.— HEZEKIAH   AND   SENNACHERIB. 

The  Assyrian  monarch  triumphs  in  the  palaces  of 
Samaria  and  Jezreel.  The  nobles  of  Israel  are  led  away 
in  chains,  and  consigned  to  servitude  and  exile.  That 
once  flourishing  kingdom  is  come  to  a  fearful  end,  and 
is  so  vanished  in  its  dissipation  that  no  man  could  ever 
afterwards  say,  ''  This  was  Israel."  0  terrible  example 
of  vengeance  on  that  peculiar  people  whom  God  had 
chosen  for  himself  out  of  the  world!  All  had  beheld 
their  miraculous  deliverances — all  had  witnessed  their 
crimes — all  shall  tremble  at  their  punishment. 

Israel  is  gone,  Judah  is  scarcely  in  being.  Who  can 
behold  without  pity  the  languishing  remains  of  the  king- 
dom of  David]  Yet  even  now  out  of  these  dying  em- 
bers doth  God  raise  up  a  glorious  light  to  his  forlorn 
church,  and  blesses  his  people  with  the  virtues  of  Heze- 
kiah.  Scarcely  can  we  imagine  a  state  of  greater  misery 
than  that  in  which  Jerusalem  was  left  at  the  death  of 
the  impious  Ahaz.  Hezekiah  revives  the  hope  of  Judah ; 
the  impiety  of  the  father  is  lost  in  the  holiness  of  the 


A' 

I 


HEZEKIAH    AND    SENNACHERIB.  211 

son;  a  new  life,  as  it  were,  is  given  to  the  disconsolate 
remnant  of  the  people  of  God. 

Now  does  the  religious  prince  exert  himself  in  the 
necessary  work  of  public  reformation.  The  high  places 
are  removed,  the  idols  are  destroyed,  the  groves  are  cut 
down,  the  holy  temple  is  purified,  the  priests  are  re- 
stored to  their  offices,  the  sacrifices  are  duly  performed, 
the  order  of  God's  service  is  established,  the  long-ne- 
glected passover  is  kept  with  due  solemnity.  In  a  word, 
all  things  are  ordered  as  if  David  himself  were  alive 
again  in  this  blessed  heir  to  his  crown  and  his  piety.  0 
Judah,  happy  in  thy  king!  0  Hezekiah,  happy  in  the 
restoration  of  thy  people  !  For  three  hundred  years  the 
man  after  God's  own  heart  had  no  so  perfect  a  represen- 
tative. The  devotions  of  the  best  princes  of  Judah  were 
in  some  measure  defective ;  now  the  zeal  of  Hezekiah 
brings  back  the  worship  of  God  to  its  original  purity. 
Even  the  brazen  serpent  of  Moses,  once  the  type  of  a 
future  Savior,  is  broken  in  pieces,  because  the  degene- 
racy of  a  wicked  age  had  converted  it  into  an  idol. 

Since  the  heart  of  Hezekiah  was  thus  upright  with 
God,  we  cannot  wonder  that  the  Lord  was  with  him — 
that  in  prosperity  and  in  adversity  he  was  guided  and 
supported  by  omnipotence. 

Fourteen  years  does  the  pious  king  enjoy  the  bless- 
ings of  peace  ;  at  length  he  must  prepare  for  scenes  of 
a  different  nature.  The  king  of  Assyria  comes  up  against 
the  fenced  cities  of  Judah  and  takes  them.  Jerusalem 
only  remains,  surrounded  by  a  host  of  enemies,  robbed 
of  all  its  wealth  by  the  former  exactions  of  Sennacherib, 
helpless,  friendless,  comfortless,  looking  forward  to  the 
utmost  extremity  of  hostile  fury. 

The  captains  of  the  Assyrian  army  demand  a  confer- 
ence. What  blasphemies,  O  God,  doth  the  insolent  Rab- 
shakeh  utter  against  thee!  How  doth  he  insult  thine 
anointed  servant !    How  doth  he  tempt  thy  people  with 


212  hall's  scripture  history. 

base  offers  of  advantage !  Above  all,  how  daringly  doth 
he  profane  thy  holy  name,  and  plead  thine  own  commis- 
sion, to  bereave  them  of  their  last,  their  dearest,  their 
only  hope!  "Am  I  now  come  up  without  the  Lord 
against  this  place  to  destroy  it  1  The  Lord  said  to  me. 
Go  up  against  this  laiid^  and  destroy  it.'''' 

In  vain  does  Eliakim  implore  the  haughty  Eabshakeh 
to  make  use  of  a  language  unknown  to  the  people.  That 
tongue  is  best  suited  to  his  purpose  which  may  do  the 
most  extensive  mischief.  The  humble  request  of  Heze- 
kiah's  princes  serves  only  to  increase  the  insolence  of 
the  blasphemer.  In  accents  familiar  to  the  assembled 
multitude,  he  terrifies  them  with  the  mighty  power  of 
Sennacherib — he  debases  the  force  of  Hezekiah — he  al- 
lures them  with  brilliant  promises — he  discourages  them 
with  the  impossibility  of  their  deliverance — he  sets  be- 
fore them  the  example  of  greater  nations,  vanquished  by 
that  sword  which  now  was  brandished  over  their  heads. 
"  Where  are  the  gods  of  Hamath,  and  of  Arpad  V 

Not  a  word  is  uttered  from  the  walls  of  Jerusalem. 
All  is  hushed  in  silence.  The  injurious  blasphemies  of 
Rabshakeh  meet  with  the  reception  they  deserve  from 
the  faithful  people  of  God.  The  boaster  returns,  exas- 
perated at  this  contemptuous  treatment,  and  denouncing 
the  utmost  extremity  of  vengeance. 

Meanwhile  the  king  of  Judah  has  recourse  to  the  Lord, 
and  to  his  prophet.  He  sends  his  princes  to  Isaiah — he 
betakes  himself  to  the  house  of  prayer.  Under  that  sacred 
roof,  clothed  in  sackcloth,  he  pours  out  his  complaint  to 
the  Almighty,  he  laments  the  indignities  offered  to  his 
God.  There,  there  is  the  refuge  of  all  faithful  hearts  in 
the  time  of  adversity.  Isaiah  sends  a  message  to  the  king, 
which  shall  dry  up  his  tears  and  turn  his  sorrow  into  joy. 
While  Sennacherib  is  in  the  height  of  his  triumphs,  the 
prophet  foresees  his  ruin,  and  while  the  tyrant  thinks  on- 
ly of  life  and  victory,  passes  on  him  the  sentence  of  death. 


IIEZEKIAir    AND    SENN-ACHERI3.  213 

The  army  of  the  king  of  Ethiopia  claims  the  immedi- 
ate attention  of  the  proud  Assyrian.  He  raises  the  siege 
of  Libnah,  and  thinks  to  terrify  Hezekiah  by  reiterated 
threats,  and  yet  more  daring  blasphemies.  Again  does 
the  holy  prophet  send  to  Hezekiah  a  message  of  com- 
fort— again  does  he  announce  the  approaching  fall  of 
Sennacherib.  He  declares  that  the  arm  of  God  shall  be 
miraculously  exerted  for  his  people — that  the  earth  shall 
bring  forth  spontaneous  fruits — that  peace  and  prospe- 
rity shall  return  to  the  land  of  Judah. 

''  Behold,  the  name  of  the  Lord  cometh  from  far,  burn- 
ing with  his  anger,  and  ,the  burden  thereof  is  heavy. 
His  lips  are  full  of  indignation,  and  his  tongue  as  a  de- 
vouring fire — and  the  Lord  shall  cause  his  glorious  voice 
to  be  heard,  and  shall  show  the  lighting  down  of  his  arm, 
with  the  indignation  of  his  anger,  and  with  the  flame  of 
a  devouring  fire,  and  with  scattering,  and  tempest,  and 
hailstones.  For  through  the  voice  of  the  Lord  shall  the 
Assyrian  be  beaten  down  which  smote  with  a  rod  !" 

Thus  spake  the  prophet.  The  angel  of  the  Lord  went 
forth,  and  smote  in  the  camp  of  Assj'ria  an  hundred  and 
fourscore  and  five  thousand — and  when  the  morninof 
dawned,  behold,  they  were  all  dead  corpses.  Thy  crime, 
O  Sennacherib,  was  enormous — thy  punishment  was 
terrible.  Whom  hast  thou  reproached  and  blasphemed  1 
and  against  whom  hast  thou  exalted  thy  voice  and  lift- 
ed up  thine  eyes  on  highl  even  against  the  Holy  One 
of  Israel — His  almighty  arm  has  cut  off  thy  legions — ■ 
take  heed  lest  he  spare  not  thee.  Go  now,  and  tell  of  the 
gods  of  Hamath,  and  of  Arpad,  of  Sepharvaim,  of  Henah, 
and  Ivah!  Assert  that  the  God  of  Judah  is  as  one  of 
these.  Go  and  add  this  Deity  to  the  number  of  thy  con- 
quests, and  say  that  the  God  of  Hezekiah,  in  whom  he 
trusted,  hath  deceived  him  and  graced  thy  triumphs  ! 

How  are  the  mighty  fallen,  and  the  weapons  of  war 
made  trophies  of  Divine  justice  !  How  speedy,  how  mi- 


2U 

raculous  is  this  execution !  No  human  arm  shall  have 
the  glory  of  such  a  victory. 

With  shame  and  grief  is  the  disappointed  tyrant  re- 
turned to  Nineveh,  leaving  behind  him  the  pride  and 
strength  of  Assyria  on  the  fields  of  death.  Vengeance 
waits  for  him  at  home,  and  welcomes  him  to  his  palace. 
While  he  is  performing  his  idolatrous  worship  in  the 
temple  of  Nisroch,  two  of  his  own  sons  become  his  mur- 
derers. And  he  who  had  spurned  all  laws  Divine  and 
human,  is  reserved  for  the  torment  of  this  unnatural 
stroke,  directed  by  the  sacrilegious  hands  of  his  wretch- 
ed and  ill-taught  children. 

Thou  art  avenged,  0  God,  thou  art  avenged  of  thine 
enemies.  Whosoever  strives  with  thee,  meets  with  de- 
feat, and  shame,  and  destruction.  The  Assyrians  are 
cut  off,  Rabshakeh  (no  doubt)  among  their  number — 
Sennacherib  is  punished  for  his  blasphemies — Jerusa- 
lem is  rescued — Hezekiah  rejoices — the  nations  wonder, 
and  tremble.  O  love  the  Lord,  all  ye  his  saints :  for  the 
Lord  preserveth  them  that  are  faithful,  and  plenteously 
rewardeth  the  proud  doer. 


46.— HEZEKIAH   AND  ISAIAH. 

O  God,  how  dost  thou  correct  them  whom  thou  lov- 
est !  Who  was  so  dear  to  thee  in  the  throne  of  Judah  as 
Hezekiah  1  Who  so  devoted  to  thy  service!  Yet,  be- 
hold, he  is  no  sooner  relieved  from  a  miserable  siege, 
than  he  pants  under  a  grievous  sickness.  While  as  j'et 
he  has  no  child  to  succeed  him,  the  prophet  Isaiah  is 
sent  to  him  with  heavy  tidings.  "Set  thine  house  in  or- 
der— for  thou  shalt  die,  and  not  live."    It  is  no  small  to- 


HEZEKIAII    A.\D    ISAIAH.  215 

ken  of  God's  mercy,  when  he  gives  us  warning  of  our 
end.  We  shall  not  profit  by  the  gracious  admonition  if 
we  make  not  preparation  for  our  departure.  They  who 
have  not  a  house,  have  yet  a  soul — no  soul  can  without 
danger  come  unprepared  before  the  all-righteous  Judge. 
The  neglect  of  this  case  is  desperate.  Set  thy  soul  in 
order,  0  man,  for  thou  shalt  die,  and  not  live. 

Never  till  now  was  the  word  of  Isaiah  otherwise  than 
welcome.  Often  had  he  been  an  ambassador  of  peace 
and  deliverance — with  equal  fidelity  he  discharges  the 
duties  of  his  office  when  God  calls  on  him  to  deliver  a 
message  of  death.  The  j)ious  king  receives  it  with 
meekness  and  reverence — he  utters  no  menace  against 
the  prophet — he  betakes  himself  to  heaven  with  lamen- 
tations and  prayers — "  I  beseech  thee,  O  Lord,  remem- 
ber how  I  have  walked  before  thee  in  truth  and  with  a 
perfect  heart !"  Couldst  thou  fear,  0  Hezekiah,  that 
God  had  forgotten  thine  integrity  1  Dost  thou  doubt 
his  remembrance  of  thy  virtues,  because  he  summons 
thee  to  glory  and  immortality]  What  is  the  object  of 
thy  mournful  supplications  1  Thy  royal  ancestor  haih 
given  language  to  thy  thoughts — '^  0  let  me  live,  and  I 
shall  praise  thee,  O  God."  From  a  natural  man  this 
wish  might  be  expected — who  cannot  but  wonder  at  it 
in  a  saint  1  His  happiness  begins  when  his  life  ceaseth 
— his  misery  ends  when  his  earthly  pilgrimage  is  over. 
He  might  be  supposed  therefore  desirous  to  depart  and 
be  with  God — ready  to  exclaim  in  all  the  fervor  of  de- 
vout affection,  "  0  let  me  die^  that  I  may  enjoy  thee !" 
Why  then  is  Hezekiah  appalled  with  the  news  of  that 
death  which  even  Pagans  have  welcomed  1  Certainly 
the  best  of  men  is  not  divested  of  human  infirmity.  As 
long  as  we  remain  in  the  body,  we  retain  those  feelings 
implanted  in  our  nature — a  love  of  life — a  degree  of 
terror  at  the  thoughts  of  dissolution.  But  the  mind  of 
Hezekiah  was  not  uninfluenced  by  nobler  motives — he 


216 

regarded  the  prosperity  of  that  church  which  he  had 
restored  from  its  ruins — he  saw  how  much  its  safety 
would  be  endangered  by  his  departure.  His  very  tears 
said,  ^'  0  God,  thou  knowest  the  eyes  of  the  world  are 
fastened  on  me,  as  one  that  hath  abandoned  idolatry 
and  revived  thy  holy  worship.  I  stand  alone,  in  the 
midst  of  a  wicked  and  faithless  generation.  If  they  see 
me  cut  off  in  the  midst  of  my  days,  will  not  the  heathen 
blaspheme!  will  they  not  triumph  in  my  untimely  ex- 
tinction 1  Alas,  what  will  become  of  thy  church,  to 
which  my  zealous  services  have  been  devoted!  How 
soon  will  it  be  overgrown  with  superstition  and  hea- 
thenism! Lord,  if  thou  callest  me  to  thyself,  have 
mercy  on  this  thy  vineyard.  Let  not  the  boar  out  of 
the  wood  root  it  up,  let  not  the  wild  beast  of  the  field 
devour  it." 

Not  a  word  of  Hezekiah  is  uttered  or  a  tear  shed  in 
vain.  The  king  of  Assyria  came  up  to  destroy  his  city 
and  people — prayers  and  tears  send  him  away  in  con- 
fusion. A  more  resistless  tyrant  came,  not  without  au- 
thority, to  bind  him  in  chains  of  iron — prayers  and  tears 
take  the  spoil  out  of  the  hand  of  the  mighty.  Before 
Isaiah  was  gone  out  into  the  middle  court,  the  Lord  of 
life  and  death  speaks  to  him  from  heaven,  '^  Turn  again, 
and  tell  Hezekiah  the  captain  of  my  people,  Thus  saith 
the  Lord,  the  God  of  David  thy  father — /  have  heard 
ihy  prayer — /  have  seen  thy  iears — behold^  I  will  heal 
iheer 

And  hast  thou  then,  O  God,  so  soon  changed  thy 
purpose  1  Was  it  not  thine  own  message  which  thy 
prophet  delivered  to  Hezekiah!  If  thou  hadst  designs 
of  mercy  and  favor,  why  didst  thou  suffer  him  to  say, 
"  Thou  shalt  die,  and  not  live  !" 

God  is  not  a  man,  that  he  should  repent — the  mes- 
sage is  changed;  the  Divine  power  and  will  are  un- 
chanfyeable.     In  the   first  instance,  the  king   of  Judali 


HEZEKIAH   AND    ISAIAH.  217 

was  told  what  he  had  to  expect  from  the  nature  of  his 
disease — afterwards  he  was  made  acquainted  with  the 
success  of  his  own  fervent  importunity.  ''  Yet  forty 
days  and  Nineveh  shall  be  overthrown"  left  space  for 
repentance  and  pardon  to  its  inhabitants.  He  who  said, 
"  Thou  shalt  die,"  can  yet  listen  to  the  ardor  of  de- 
votion which  implored  a  longer  life. 

How  w^onderful  is  the  goodness  of  heaven!  While 
the  tears  of  Hezekiah  are  yet  streaming  down  his 
cheeks,  while  the  prayer  is  scarcely  spoken  by  his  lips, 
God  sends  an  answer  of  peace.  He  will  not  suffer  his 
faithful  servant  to  languish,  even  for  an  hour,  in  ex- 
pectation of  the  threatened  stroke.  He  has  seen  his 
ways  and  will  heal  him — within  three  days  his  feet 
shall  stand  in  the  courts  of  the  house  of  the  Lord — he 
who  now  weeps  on  the  bed  of  sickness,  shall  sing  a 
song  of  joy  and  thanksgiving  in  the  temple.  O  thou 
that  hearest  prayer,  unto  thee  shall  all  flesh  come  ! 
With  what  cheerful  hope  should  we  approach  that 
throne  of  grace,  where  never  any  petition  is  rejected, 
unless  for  the  highest  ultimate  good !.  Lord,  our  best 
state  is  a  state  of  uncertainty — thy  wisdom  hath  judged 
it  inexpedient  for  us  to  know  the  appointed  period  of 
our  existence.  Teach  us  therefore,  O  God  of  mercies, 
so  to  number  our  days  that  we  may  apply  our  hearts 
to  thy  heavenly  wisdom ! 

The  loving-kindness  of  God  towards  his  servant*  ends 
not  here.  Hezekiah  shall  be  blessed  not  only  with 
health  but  peace.  The  proud  Assyrian  (not  yet  fallen  a 
sacrifice  to  the  ambition  of  his  children)  threatens 
another  invasion.  His  late  discomfiture  rankles  in  his 
breast,  and  urges  him  to  revenge — but  the  God  of 
heaven  maintains  his  own  cause.  "  I  will  deliver  thee 
and  this  city  out  of  the  hand  of  the  king  of  Assyria — I 
will  defend  this  city  for  mine  own  sake,  and  for  my  ser- 
vant David's  sake."  For  healthy  under  the  infinite  good- 

.«=5cript.  Hist.  10 


218  hall's  scripture  history. 

ness  of  God,  Hezekiah  is  indebted  to  his  prayers — for 
peaccy  lo  the  precious  memory  of  his  royal  ancestor. 
To  tlie  man  after  his  own  heart  had  God  pledged  him- 
self by  a  gracious  promise — the  word  standeth  sure — 
the  Almighty  fails  not  to  remember  his  ancient  mer- 
cies. The  piety  of  David  shall  be  a  light  to  lighten  the 
unborn — shall  entail  a  blessing  on  future  generations. 

The  sudden  contradiction  of  the  message  causes  a 
just  difficulty  in  the  assent — Hezekiah  demands  a  sign, 
not  because  he  distrusts,  but  that  he  may  trust  the 
more.     "Lord,  we  believe,  help  thou  our  unbelief!" 

The  languishing  monarch  has  his  option.  His  father 
Ahaz  was  offered  a  sign,  and  refused  it — Hezekiah  asks 
a  sign,  and  obtains  it — "  Shall  the  shadow  go  forward 
ten  degrees,  or  back  ten  degrees  1"  As  if  heaven  lay 
open  to  his  choice,  as  if  time  itself  were  ready  either 
to  advance  or  retire  for  his  confirmation ;  as  if  the 
laws  of  universal  nature  were  in  subjection  to  the  failh 
of  the  servants  of  God. 

Hezekiah  fixes  on  that  sign  which  is  most  difficult, 
most  widely  removed  from  the  course  of  probability. 
The  going  back  of  the  shadow  was  a  convincing  proof 
of  that  mighty  power,  the  exertion  of  which  was  ne- 
cessary to  bring  back  the  departing  spirit  of  the  king 
of  Judah.  "  Nay,  but  let  the  shadow  return  back  ten 
degrees !" 

Shall  we  more  wonder  at  the  love  of  God  towards 
Hezekiah,  or  the  mighty  faith  of  his  prophet  1  "  Isaiah 
cried  unto  the  Lord — and  the  Lord  brought  the  shadow 
ten  degrees  backward,  by  which  it  had  gone  down  in 
the  dial  of  Ahaz."  No  wonder  the  Chaldean  sages  re- 
paired eagerly  to  Jerusalem  to  investigate  so  striking 
a  prodigy.  Whether  the  day  was  supernaturally  length- 
ened, or  whether  the  miracle  were  local  on  the  sundial 
of  Ahaz,  the  proof  of  Divine  omnipotence  was  the  same. 
The  life  of  Hezekiah  was  hastening  towards  the  night 


JOSIAH.  219 

of  death — the  voice  of  God  recalls  it.  O  Lord,  thou 
wilt  rather  alter  the  course  of  heaven  and  earth,  than 
suffer  the  faith  of  thy  children  to  sink  for  want  of  thine 
assistance. 

Now  does  the  king  of  Israel  repair  with  joy  to  the 
temple  of  God — now  does  he  ofl^er  the  sacrifice  of 
grateful  thanksgiving  in  the  house  where  his  honor 
dwelleth.  *'I  will  sing  unto  the  Lord  as  long  as  I  live, 
I  will  sing  praise  unto  my  God  while  I  have  my  being." 


47.--JOSIAH. 

Now  is  the  throne  of  Judah,  for  the  last  time,  the 
seat  of  purity  and  justice — now  does  that  light  once 
more  shine,  so  soon  to  be  succeeded  by  the  deepest 
obscurity.  The  crimes  of  Manasseh  and  of  his  short- 
lived son  have  already  cancelled  all  those  lessons  of 
piety  which  the  precepts  and  the  example  of  Hezokiah 
enforced  for  a  time  on  the  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem. 
All  seems  desperate — the  Divine  vengeance  is  advanc- 
ing with  hasty  steps  to  inflict  the  threatened  destruc- 
tion— when  the  blow  is  for  a  while  arrested  by  the 
piety  of  young  Josiah. 

Experience  has  in  general  demonstrated  that  the 
cares  of  government  demand  the  utmost  vigor  of 
mental  faculties  in  the  ruler,  and  all  those  advantages 
which  maturity  of  age  and  perfection  of  reason  can 
bestow.  "  Wo  unto  thee,  O  land,  whose  king  is  a 
child  !"  Yet  in  the  case  of  Josiah  we  find  that  God 
knows  how  to  deviate  from  the  ordinary  course  of  his 
dispensations.  There  are  instances  in  which  a  virtuous 
heart  confers  as  much  distinction  on  its  possessor  as 


220  hall's  scripture  history. 

he  can  derive  from  the  hoary  head,  that  crown  of  glory. 
There  have  been  illustrious  characters,  who,  having 
lived  a  short  time,  fulfilled  a  long  time — who  proved  to 
an  admiring  world  that  wisdom  is  as  grey  hairs  unto 
men,  and  unspotted  life  as  old  age. 

Even  the  minority  of  Josiah  was  not  idle.  No  sooner 
was  his  heart  capable  of  reflection,  than  he  applied  him- 
self to  seek  after  God — the  first  acts  of  his  royal  au- 
thority showed  that  he  sought  him  not  in  vain.  Exam- 
ples are  the  best  rules  for  the  inexperienced — the  king 
of  Judah  sets  before  him  his  royal  ancestor  David  as  the 
object  of  imitation.  The  word  of  truth  is  a  lamp  unto 
his  feet  and  a  light  unto  his  paths — with  his  whole 
heart  he  seeks  the  Lord  God  of  his  fathers.  The  testi- 
monies of  Jehovah  are  his  delight  and  his  counsellors. 

The  good  principles  with  which  the  pious  king  had 
stored  his  mind  are  early  reduced  to  practice. 

His  dearest  care  is  to  purify  Judah  and  Jerusalem  from 
the  impurities  with  which  they  abounded — the  high 
places,  the  groves,  the  images,  the  altars  of  Manasseh 
and  Amon,  all  are  done  away.  Nothing  is  left  unac- 
complished which  can  show  the  pious  king's  detesta- 
tion of  idolatry. 

No  sooner  is  this  important  reformation  eflfected  than 
Josiah  turns  his  thoughts  to  the  restoration  of  the  house 
of  God.  Many  times  had  this  venerable  structure  been 
made  to  suffer,  through  the  rage  of  foreign  invaders  or 
the  careless  impiety  of  sacrilegious  princes.  How  did 
the  ruinous  state  of  the  hallowed  pile  bear  witness  to 
the  past  calamities  and  transgressions  of  Judah,  when, 
m  the  true  spirit  of  his  father  David,  Josiah  made  pro- 
clamation for  the  repairing  of  the  temple  ! 

The  freewill  offerings  of  zealous  piety  are  joyfully 
contributed — the  high  priest  himself  is  delegated  by 
Josiah  to  direct  and  superintend  the  execution  of  a  work 
in  which  the  welfare  of  religion  is  so  deeply  interested. 


JosiAii.  221 

Never  does  the  God  of  heaven  withhold  his  blessing 
from  the  devout  endeavors  of  his  faithful  servants.  While 
the  high  priest  Hilkiah  was  diligently  restoring  the  tem- 
ple to  its  state  of  perfection,  he  finds  the  book  of  the 
law  of  Moses.  That  authentic  and  original  record  was, 
by  especial  command  of  the  great  Legislator,  appointed 
to  be  carefully  kept  within  a  safe  shrine  in  the  sanctuary. 
Some  faithful  priest,  in  the  depraved  times  of  idolatry, 
had  removed  the  precious  volume  to  a  place  of  greater 
security — had  withdrawn  it  from  the  eye  of  curiosity, 
from  the  hand  of  sacrilege  j  studious  to  preserve  that 
ancient  monument  of  Divine  goodness  from  the  fury  of 
impious  profanation.  Some  transcripts  were  doubtless 
extant — Josiah  could  not  be  unacquainted  v/ith  the  law 
of  his  God — but  the  whole  body  of  these  awful  records, 
since  the  recent  night  of  confusion,  idolatry,  and  perse- 
cution, saw  not  the  light  till  now.  Hilkiah  finds  the 
long-lost  treasure  and  transmits  it  to  his  royal  master. 

Josiah  hears  with  grief  and  consternation  those  dread- 
ful threatenings  of  judgment  which  the  voice  of  Heaven 
denounced  against  idolatry.  Guiltless  himself,  he  yet 
trembled  for  his  Judah — he  rends  his  clothes,  in  fear- 
ful expectation  of  some  national  calamity.  His  eyes 
gush  out  with  tears  because  men  keep  not  the  law  of 
God. 

But  the  sorrow  of  the  pious  youth  loses  not  itself  in 
inaction — he  sends  to  inquire  of  the  Lord  for  himself, 
for  his  people.  Whence,  0  Josiah,  is  this  deep  perplex- 
ity !  If  thy  fathers  were  idolatrous,  hast  thou  not  aban- 
doned their  sins  1  If  thy  people  were  once  guiltj',  have 
they  not  expiated  their  crime  by  repentance  1  Are  not 
all  abuses  carefully  reformed  ]  What  mean  these  tears, 
this  earnest  solicitude  1  Too  well  does  thy  fear  antici- 
pate the  message  which  the  prophetess  is  commissioned 
to  send  thee.  "  Go,  tell  the  man  that  sent  you,  Thus 
saith  the  Lord — Behold,  I  ivill  bring  evil  upon  this  place. 


222  hall's  scripture  history. 

Evil  awaits  the  guilty  Jerusalem — all  the  vengeance 
foretold  shall  be  accomplished.  A  moment's  respite  is 
granted  in  consideration  of  thy  pious  fidelity — but  the 
measure  of  public  iniquity  is  full — the  predicted  ruin 
must  shortly  take  its  course.  It  is  enough  for  thee  that 
thou  shalt  sleep  in  the  tomb  before  the  storm  take  place 
— thine  eye  shall  not  see  what  thy  people  shall  feel — 
Judah  shall  become  a  curse,  and  Sion  a  desolation — but 
thine  heart  shall  only  suffer  from  the  expectation  of  evil. 
The  humility  and  devotion  of  Josiah  has  exempted 
himself  horn  vengeance — he  leaves  no  expedient  untried 
to  procure  the  deliverance  of  his  people.  He  causes 
those  awful  words  which  had  made  such  an  impression 
on  his  own  heart,  to  be  publicly  and  solemnly  recited  in 
the  streets  of  Jerusalem.  The  assembly  is  universal. 
The  priests,  the  prophets,  the  multitude  are  gathered 
together — the  depravity  has  been  general — the  danger 
hangs  over  every  head — the  law  of  God  shall  sound 
in  every  ear.  If  the  people  do  not  imitate  the  piety 
of  their  king,  they  are  not  worthy  to  partake  with 
him  in  his  impunity.  At  all  events  they  shall  not 
want  a  great  example  to  direct  their  national  humilia- 
tion. The  wise  and  good  Josiah  stands  by  the  pillar 
of  the  temple  (see  2  Kings,  11:  14-;  and  Judges,  9:6) 
and  renews  the  solemn  covenant  with  his  God.  The 
people  cannot,  dare  not  refuse  to  join  in  his  devotions. 
In  the  midst  of  the  horror  they  feel  at  the  predictions 
of  impending  destruction,  they  will  not  withdraw  their 
obedience  from  their  king,  and  from  their  God.  Josiah 
contents  not  himself  with  the  expressions  of  fervent  piety 
— his  actions  second  his  words.  Whatever  monuments 
remain  of  paganism  are  defaced  by  him  with  indigna- 
tion— no  endeavor  is  wanting  to  testify  his  zeal  for 
that  name  of  God  which  had  been  so  profaned  by  the 
idolatry  of  his  people.  He  burns  the  vessels  of  Baal, 
and  puts  down  his  impious  priests — he  strews  the  dust 


JosiAH.  223 

of  their  idols  in  the  brook  Kidron — defiles  Tophct,  the 
scene  of  their  abominations — takes  away  the  horses  and 
chariots  dedicated  to  the  sun — omits  nothing  which 
might  appease  the  anger  of  God,  renew  the  hearts  of 
the  people,  perfect  the  reformation  he  had  begun. 

Nor  is  this  care  confined  to  Jerusalem  and  the  adja- 
cent cities.  It  extends  itself  to  the  utmost  parts  of  his 
kingdom.  Even  Bethel,  the  unhallowed  seat  of  Jero- 
boam's idolatry,  (now  once  more  under  the  dominion  of 
Judah,)  shall  partake  of  his  pious  solicitude.  Some  traces 
of  the  ancient  superstition  yet  remained — Josiah  hast- 
ens, with  earnest  care,  to  fulfil  that  ancient  prophecy 
which  pointed  him  out  by  name  as  the  restorer  of 
true  religion  four  centliries  before  his  birth.  "  O  altar, 
altar,  thus  saith  the  Lord — Behold,  a  child  shall  be  born 
unto  the  house  of  David,  Josiah  by  name — by  him  shall 
men's  bones  be  burnt  upon  thee  !"  The  hour  is  come — 
the  word  is  accomplished.  Josiah  remembers  with  joy 
that  God  had  so  long  before  ordained  him  to  the  task  of 
piety,  and  called  him  byname  to  this  acceptable  service. 

The  prophet  who  foretold  these  events  had  his  tomb 
in  Bethel — that  tomb  was  inscribed  with  some  portion 
of  his  history.  The  Israelites  themselves  had  preserved 
the  monument  of  their  own  conviction.  Though  the 
bones  of  the  prophet  were  amongst  the  sepulchres  of 
idolaters,  his  epitaph  preserves  them  from  desecration. 
The  lion  was  not  suffered  to  tear  him  at  his  death — the 
multitude  are  restrained  from  violating  his  bones  in  his 
grave.  Josiah  commands  them  to  rest  in  peace — he  will 
not  suffer  those  ashes  to  meet  with  indecent  contempt 
or  superstitious  reverence. 

The  false  worship  is  removed — Josiah  hastens  to  cele- 
brate the  passover.  The  book  of  the  law  informed  him 
of  the  time,  the  place,  the  circumstances  of  this  ordi- 
nance. His  zeal  so  carefully  follows  it,  that,  since  the 
days  of  Samuel,  the  feast  had  never  been  so  punctually 


224. 

celebrated.  Jerusalem  is  the  place — the  fourteenth  clay 
of  the  first  month  the  time — the  Levites  are  appointed 
to  minister — a  spotless  lamb  is  selected — no  bone  of  it 
is  broken — the  blood  is  sprinkled  on  the  door-posts — 
the  passover  is  eaten  with  bread  unleavened — the  re- 
mainder is  consumed  with  fire.  Every  true  Israelite  par- 
ticipates with  joy  in  the  monument  of  past  deliverance 
— the  pledge  of  future  salvation— the  type  of  the  expect- 
ed Messiah. 


48.— THE   CAPTIVITY   OF   JUDAH. 

What  cause,  O  God,  led  thee  to  reject  thine  own  in- 
heritance 1  "What  sin  of  thy  people  demanded  this  aw- 
ful display  of  thy  justice  l  What  but  the  same  crime  by 
which  a  host  of  angels  lost  their  celestial  thrones  1 
Pride,  rebellion,  apostacy,  sins  which  set  thy  mercy  at 
defiance  and  provoked  the  severity  of  thine  almighty 
vengeance  !  Like  the  backsliding  Israel,  the  treacherous 
Judah  went  astray  in  the  paths  of  delusion.  "  The  peo- 
ple forsook  the  commandments  of  their  God  and  made 
them  molten  images — they  worshipped  all  the  host  of 
heaven — they  served  Baal — they  caused  their  sons  and 
their  daughters  to  pass  through  the  fire — they  used  divi- 
nation and  enchantments — they  sold  themselves  to  do 
evil  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord,  they  provoked  him  to  an- 
ger with  horrible  abominations." 

Nor  were  these  the  fruits  of  ignorance.  They  were 
wilful  crimes — obstinate  impieties — continued,  notwith- 
standing the  efforts  of  more  than  one  religious  king — 
increased,  notwithstanding  the  reproofs,  the  menaces, 
the  doctrines,  the  miraculous  works  of  those  holy  pro- 
phets which  God  in  his  mercy  had  sent  amongst  them. 


THE    CAPTIVITY    OF   JUDAH.  225 

Thy  calamity  is  of  thyself,  O  Judah !  What  could  the 
just  hand  of  Omnipotence  do  less,  than  destroy  a  nation 
so  incorrigibly  flagitious  1 — a  nation  so  unthankful  for 
mercies,  so  prone  to  disobedience,  so  devoid  of  lasting 
repentance  1 — a  nation  so  favored,  so  warned,  and  yet 
so  shamelessly,  so  daringly  wicked  1 

What  people  under  heaven  can  deem  themselves  se- 
cure from  danger  of  punishment,  when  Jerusalem  itself 
is  made  a  desolation  1  What  church  could  record  such 
instances  of  the  peculiar  favor  of  God  as  this,  his-di- 
vorced,  his  faithless  spouse  ?  It  is  not  for  us  sinners  of 
the  Gentiles  to  be  high-minded  :  let  us  rather  fear.  If 
God  spared  not  the  natural  branches,  we  also  must  take 
heed  lest  we,  through  pur  unfruitfulness,  be  cut  off. 

First  and  chief  among  the  authors  of  those  horrid  im- 
pieties which  drew  down  the  vengeance  of  heaven,  was 
the  cruel  and  execrable  Manasseh.  Not  content  with 
his  personal  guilt,  he  seduced  the  people  of  God  to  his 
abominations — he  spared  not  his  innocent  child  from  the 
idolatrous  fires — he  shed  the  blood  of  the  prophets,  till 
he  had  filled  Jerusalem  with  slaughter  and  massacre. 

The  mighty  God,  whose  name  only  is  Jehovah,  was 
not  thus  to  be  insulted  with  impunity.  Regardless  of  all 
consequences  to  themselves,  his  intrepid  servants  thun- 
dered in  the  ears  of  this  monster  of  impiety,  ''  Thus 
saith  the  Lord,  Behold,  I  am  bringing  such  evil  upon  Jeru- 
salem and  Judah,  that  whosoever  hears  of  it  both  his  ears 
shall  tingle."  The  sin  of  Manasseh  had  spread  itself  by 
its  contagion  among  his  people — the  punishment  shall 
be  as  general  as  the  oflfence.  No  ear  shall  hear  of  it 
which  shall  not  glow  with  astonishment  and  commise- 
ration. What  then  is  that  vengeance,  O  God,  which  thou 
threatenest  with  such  a  preface  of  horror  ]  "  I  will 
stretch  over  Jerusalem  the  line  of  Samaria  and  the  plum- 
met of  the  house  of  Ahab.  I  will  forsake  the  remnant 
of  mine  inheritance.  I  will  deliver  them  into  the  hand  of 
10* 


226 

their  enemies ;  and  they  shall  become  a  prey  and  a  spoil 
to  all  that  hate  them." 

Alas,  what  ear  will  not  tingle,  what  eye  will  not  weep, 
what  heart  will  not  be  confounded  at  the  mention  of  so 
dreadful  a  sentence  1  Can  there  be  a  more  grievous 
judgment  than  desolation,  captivity,  desertion,  the  scorn 
of  prevailing  enemies  ]  O  God,  shall  this  befall  thy  Je- 
rusalem, the  place  which  thou  hast  chosen  to  thyself, 
the  glory  of  the  earth,  the  darling  of  heaven,  the  lot  of 
thine  inheritance,  the  place  of  which  thou  saidst,  ''Here 
shall  be  my  rest  for  everV  Jerusalem  hath  grievously 
sinned,  therefore  shall  she  be  removed.  There  is  no 
place  whatever  from  which  the  Almighty  will  not  with- 
draw his  protection  if  the  transgressions  of  its  inhabi- 
tants demand  the  fatal  separation.  ''  I  would  have  heal- 
ed Sion,  but  she  would  not  be  healed  :  therefore  have 
I  forsaken  mine  house — I  have  left  mine  heritage — I 
have  given  the  dearly  beloved  of  my  soul  into  the  hand 
of  her  enemies."  The  remembrance  of  former  happiness 
shall  cause  increase  of  sorrow — the  height  of  past  pros- 
perity, aggravation  of  ruin. 

While  the  sword  of  Divine  indignation  is  thus  prepar- 
ing to  quit  its  scabbard,  the  transcendent  merit  of  Josiah 
turns  the  curse  into  a  blessing,  and  the  destroying  an- 
gel himself  forbears  to  strike. 

But,  alas,  that  religious,  just,  and  virtuous  prince  is 
snatched  away  in  the  vigor  of  his  years.  The  God 
whom  he  serves  calls  him  unexpectedly  from  behold- 
ing and  partaking  the  miseries  of  Judah.  O  how  mer- 
ciful are  the  judgments  of  heaven!  how  blessed  the  por- 
tion of  the  children  of  God  who  are  revived  by  death, 
united  by  dissolution,  glorified  by  mortal  weakness  and 
infirmity  !  The  good  Josiah  is  now  an  associate  with 
saints  and  angels — instead  of  a  fading  and  corruptible 
crown,  he  now  enjoys  an  eternal.  His  subjects,  like  or- 
phans bereaved  of  a  tender  parent,  give  vent  to  their 


THE    CAPTIVITY    OP    JITDAH.  227 

unavailing  sorrow — they  are  aware  that  the  light  of  Ju- 
dah  is  extinguished,  and  that  darkness  and  misery  await 
her.  If  the  souls  of  the  blessed  could  be  capable  of  afflic- 
tion, the  calamities  of  his  sons,  his  people,  his  country 
would  have  affected  Josiah  even  in  the  mansions  of 
peace. 

O  woful  and  unworthy  succession  to  the  best  of  kings  ! 
one  son  is  a  prisoner,  another  a  tributary,  both  are  wick- 
ed. The  people  relapse  into  their  ancient  idolatry — no- 
thing now  delays  the  execution  of  predicted  vengeance. 
Nebuchadnezzar,  like  a  destroying  tempest,  advances 
with  resistless  fury.  The  wretched  Jehoiachin,  newly 
seated  in  the  throne,  is  seized  and  put  in  irons.  The  con- 
queror removes  him  to  Babylon — his  wife,  his  mother, 
his  princes,  his  warriors  accompany  him,  manacled  and 
chained,  to  their  perpetual  bondage.  His  sorrows  are 
multiplied  instead  of  being  lessened  by  such  society. 

The  first  wo  is  past — behold,  another  wo  cometh 
quickly. 

One  branch  yet  remains  of  Josiah's  miserable  pro- 
geny— Mattaniah,  the  brother  of  Jehoiakim.  Nebuchad- 
nezzar, changing  his  name  to  Zedekiah,  sets  him  up  in 
the  tributary  throne  of  Judah.  There  might  he  have 
continued  in  peaceful  subjection — but  he  who  had  been 
always  rebellious  against  God,  fails  in  obedience  to  the 
king  of  Babylon.  The  prophet  Jeremiah  forewarns  him 
of  the  consequences,  but  in  vain — nothing  could  teach 
him  but  sad  experience. 

Thrice  had  Jerusalem  revolted — thrice  had  conspira- 
cies been  formed  against  that  powerful  monarch,  who  in 
the  midst  of  conquest  had  hitherto  been  forbearing.  Now 
for  the  last  time  his  mighty  armies  surround  the  de- 
voted city.  Zedekiah,  guilty  and  self-condemned,  at- 
tempts to  escape  by  flight — he  is  pursued — he  is  over- 
taken— he  hears  the  tremendous  decree  of  the  conquer- 
or.   His  children  are  slaughtered  ;  his  eyes  are  put  out, 


228  hall's  scripture  history. 

having  first  witnessed  a  scene  of  horror  which  shall 
dwell  on  his  niind  for  ever — he  is  bound  in  fetters  of 
brass — he  is  carried  away  to  Babylon,  the  victim  of 
sorrow  and  despair. 

Now  hath  the  Lord  covered  with  a  cloud  the  daugh- 
ter of  Zion — he  hath  cast  off  her  altar,  he  hath  abhorred 
her  tabernacle,  he  hath  given  up  into  the  hand  of  the  en- 
emy the  walls  of  her  palaces.  Nebuzaradan,  comman- 
der of  the  Babylonian  armies,  comes  up  against  the 
wretched,  the  defenceless  city,  breaks  down  its  forts, 
burns  the  temple  of  the  Lord,  the  house  of  the  king, 
every  pleasant  and  magnificent  edifice  5  drives  the  re- 
maining inhabitants  into  captivity;  carries  away  the  last 
spoils  of  the  sanctuary.  0  Jerusalem,  Jerusalem,  the 
wonder  of  all  ages,  the  excellency  of  greatness  and  glo- 
ry, how  art  thou  become  heaps  of  ashes,  a  spectacle  of 
desolation,  a  monument  of  ruin !  Though  later  in  time, 
how  hast  thou  shared  with  thy  sister  Samaria  in  the  bit- 
ter cup  of  Almighty  vengeance  !  Long  had  thy  God  fore- 
warned thee,  '^  Though  Israel  play  the  harlot,  yet  let 
not  Judah  sin."  Thou  hast  partaken  of  her  iniquities, 
thou  hast  smarted  under  her  doom.  Both  are  in  the 
dust,  both  are  made  a  fearful  example  to  all  ages.  O 
God,  who  shall  escape  thy  justice  if  thine  own  Jerusa- 
lem thus  perished  by  reason  of  wickedness  1  Alas,  those 
goodly  cedars  of  the  temple  are  devoured  with  fire — 
those  curious  marbles,  placed  in  reverential  silence  on 
thy  holy  hill,  are  broken  down  with  resounding  axes 
and  hammers — the  veil  is  rent — the  sacred  ark  of  God 
is  violated  and  defaced — the  altars  are  beaten  down — 
the  sanctuary,  whereinto  none  might  enter  but  thine 
high-priest  once  a  year,  thronged  wdth  insulting  pagans 
— the  pillars  demolished — the  pavements  dug  up — the 
very  ground  whereon  the  temple  stood,  desecrated  and 
deformed. 

How  frail,  how  unstable,  are  the  most  magnificent 


EZRA.  229 

works  of  man !  Only  the  temple  not  made  with  hands 
is  eternal  in  the  heavens.  Thither  may  He  graciously 
conduct  us,  who  hath  called  us  to  his  everlasting  glory, 
for  the  sake  of  that  merciful  High  Priest  who  entered 
once  for  all  into  that  holy  of  holies!  Amen. 


49.— EZRA. 

While  Babylon  was  a  queen,  Judah  was  a  vassal ; 
but  when  the  oppressors  fell,  the  people  of  God  began 
to  arise.  The  Babylonian  monarchy  is  no  sooner  swal- 
lowed up  by  that  of  Persia,  than  the  Hebrews  feel  the 
comfort  of  returning  liberty.  The  iron  yoke  is  dashed 
in  pieces  which  had  enslaved  the  captive  Sion.  Cyrus 
is  at  the  same  moment  a  conqueror  and  a  deliverer. 
He  sees  and  pities  the  wretchedness  of  the  Jews ;  he 
sends  them,  under  the  conduct  of  Zorobabel,  to  their 
almost  forgotten  country.  Doubtless  he  was  not  igno- 
rant that  he  had  been  forenamed  in  the  voice  of  pro- 
phecy— that  he  had  been  appointed  by  Heaven  to  this  im- 
portant service  almost  two  centuries  ere  he  had  a  being. 

The  first  year  of  his  monarchy  is  not  expired  be- 
fore he  publishes  his  royal  edicts  throughout  the 
kingdom  for  the  restoration  of  Judah.  He  calls  on  all 
his  subjects  for  their  aid.  More  especially  he  enjoins 
and  encourages  the  children  of  the  captivity  to  pro- 
mote the  pious  work.  He  dismisses  the  Jews  with 
tokens  of  princely  liberality.  Five  thousand  and  four 
hundred  vessels  of  gold  and  silver  (the  precious  spoil 
taken  by  Nebuchadnezzar)  are  once  more  set  apart  for 
the  service  of  the  house  of  God  in  Jerusalem.  How 
does  thy  munificence,  0  royal  Cyrus,  condemn  the  ra- 


230  hall's    SCEirTUEE    HISTORY. 

pacity  of  those  who  fill  their  houses  with  sacrilegious 
plunder !  who  usurp,  for  unhallowed  purposes,  the 
treasures  which  ancierit  piety  had  consecrated  to  God! 

And  was  it  then  to  the  monarch  of  Persia  alone  that 
the  Jews  were  indebted  for  their  freedom  1  Didst  not 
thou,  0  God,  in  whose  hands  are  the  hearts  of  kings, 
stir  up  the  spirit  of  this  virtuous  heathen  to  be  the 
friend,  the  protector,  the  father  of  thy  church  1  Did 
not  thy  providence  dispose  his  mind  to  the  accomplish- 
ment of  thine  own  purpose,  and  teach  his  generous  soul 
to  feel  for  the  calamities  of  the  daughter  of  thy  people  1 

Now  do  the  chief  of  the  fathers  of  Judah  and  Benja- 
min prepare  for  their  auspicious  journey  ;  now  they 
take  down  their  harps  from  the  willows  which  grew 
near  the  waters  of  Babylon,  and,  unbidden^  sing  the 
songs  of  their  much-loved  Sion.  They  arrive  in  safety 
at  Jerusalem — Jerusalem,  dear  to  them  even  in  its  state 
of  ruin  and  desolation  !  Their  first  care  is  a  public  and 
solemn  sacrifice.  The  interruption  of  their  devotions 
hath  made  the  service  of  God  still  more  interesting, 
still  more  delightful.  'With  joy  inexpressible  they  "  de- 
clare the  name  of  the  Lord  in  Sion,  and  his  worship  in 
Jerusalem."  Their  prince  and  their  high  priest  are 
eager  to  set  up  the  altar  on  its  basis.  Before  the  foun- 
dations of  the  temple  are  laid,  a  place  shall  be  appoint- 
ed whence  the  oblations  of  their  grateful  hearts  might 
ascend  to  heaven. 

The  feast  of  tabernacles  is  kept,  while  they  are  con- 
strained to  abide  in  tents,  before  they  had  prepared 
them  habitations  to  dwell  in.  This  office  performed, 
they  devote  their  labors  to  the  house  of  God.  Artificers 
are  selected,  Tyrian  workmen  are  again  called  for,  Le- 
banon again  bestows  her  stately  cedars.  The  materials 
are  ready — and  now,  while  the  foundation  of  the  tem* 
pie  is  laying,  the  priests  stand  in  their  consecrated  vest- 
ments, with  trumpets  and  cymbals,  singing  praises  to 


EZRA.  231 

the  God  of  Israel,  who  had  turned  their  captivity  as  the 
rivers  in  the  south ;  the  people  second  their  hymns 
with  acclamations  of  transport,  whilst  the  remembrance 
of  past  magnificence  brings  tears  into  those  aged  eyes 
which  had  beheld  the  former  house  in  all  its  glory.  If 
in  that  militant  church,  of  which  we  are  members,  our 
delight  is  still  attempered  by  heaviness,  let  us  not  aban- 
don our  glorious  hope  !  A  day  shall  come  when  the  ser- 
vants of  God  will  be  received  into  their  heavenly  Jeru- 
salem, the  high  and  holy  city  of  peace,  and  love,  and 
joy.  No  temple  made  w^ith  hands  shall  be  therein,  for 
the  Lord  God  Almighty  and  the  Lamb  are  the  temple 
thereof.  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes ; 
there  shall  be  no  more,  death,  neither  sorrow  nor  cry- 
ing, neither  shall  there  be  any  more  pain,  for  the  for- 
mer things  shall  pass  away  ! 

How  different  is  this  unclouded  heaven  from  the 
tumultuous  scenes  of  mortality !  How  soon  is  the  rap- 
ture of  the  Jews  turned  into  grief  and  disappointment ! 
Their  patience  was  not  yet  fully  tried.  The  malicious 
suggestions  of  their  Samaritan  rivals  must  yet  prevail 
against  them  for  a  season.  Long  and  melancholy  is  the 
period  during  w^hich  the  walls  of  the  temple  lie  waste 
— the  city  is  defenceless — the  children  of  Judah  are  a 
derision  to  their  insulting  enemies.  Edicts  of  a  very 
different  nature  from  those  of  Cyrus  are  promulgated 
by  his  successors.  The  uplifted  arm  of  authority  re- 
strains the  people  of  God.  They  seem  only  to  have  ex- 
changed one  captivity  for  another.  In  silence  and  sor- 
row they  cease  from  their  labors,  till  the  prophets 
Haggai  and  Zechariah  rouse  them  from  this  state  of 
torpid  dejection,  and  inspire  new  courage  into  their 
disconsolate  hearts. 

Darius  was  now  seated  on  the  throne  of  Persia.  His 
officers  come,  as  before,  to  expostulate.  "  Who  hath 
commanded  you  to  build  this  house  1"    The  Hebrews 


232 

wisely  and  modestly  plead  the  service  of  the  God  of  hea- 
ven— the  decree  of  Cyrus — their  just  and  undoubted 
rights  in  consequence  of  it,  which  subsequent  edicts,  if 
they  could  suspend,  were  not  able  to  cancel.  (See  Dan. 
6  :  15.)  The  impartial  governors  seek  not  to  exaspe- 
rate— they  send  messengers  to  the  king,  stating  the  fact, 
without  any  malicious  comment — they  request  that 
search  may  be  made  for  the  decree  of  Cyrus — they  ask 
the  royal  pleasure  concerning  its  validity.  Darius  seeks, 
finds,  ratifies,  enlarges  it — charges  his  officers  to  pro- 
mote, not  to  hinder  the  work — levies  tribute  beyond  the 
river  for  the  expenses  of  the  building,  for  the  service 
of  the  altar — threatening  utter  ruin  to  all  who  should 
by  any  means  prove  adverse  to  the  cause  of  Jehovah. 
"  The  God  of  heaven,  who  hath  caused  his  name  to 
dwell  there,  shall  punish  all  kings  and  people  who  shall 
put  to  their  hand  to  alter  and  destroy  this  house  of  God 
which  is  at  Jerusalem.  I  Darius  have  made  a  decree  j 
let  it  be  done  with  speed." 

Who  would  have  expected  such  an  edict  from  a  Per- 
sian 1    No  Solomon,  no  David  could  have  said  more,      s 

In  the  sixth  year  of  the  reign  of  Darius  the  temple 
of  God  is  finished  :  and  now  the  dedication  of  it  is  cele- 
brated by  a  joyful  feast — the  victims  smoke  upon  the 
consecrated  altars — the  priests  are  appointed  in  their 
divisions — the  Levites  in  their  courses — the  children  of 
the  captivity  esteem  this  day  a  sufficient  compensation 
for  all  their  sorrows. 

Alas,  how  soon  does  it  appear  that  the  most  salutary 
instructions  may  be  corrupted  by  human  folly  and  per- 
verseness !  How  soon  have  abuses  crept  into  Judah, 
which  call  loudly  for  reformation!  Artaxerxes  hath 
learned  of  his  father  to  befriend  the  people  of  God.  Un- 
der his  government  the  wise,  the  learned,  the  religious 
Ezra  is  sent  to  Jerusalem  with  authority  to  inquire  into 
the  wants  and  redress  the  grievances  of  his  country- 


EZRA.  233 

men — to  check  the  progress  of  national  corruption — to 
ordain  magistrates  and  judges — to  promote  obedience 
to  the  laws — to  punish  the  contumacy  of  ofTcnders. 
Thus  called,  thus  encouraged,  the  consecrated  priest 
assembles  a  new  colony  of  the  Jews  j  and  (secure  in 
the  protection  of  God)  will  not  ask  a  band  of  soldiers 
to  help  him  against  the  enemy  in  the  way.  He  had  told 
the  king  of  Persia,  with  a  courage  worthy  of  the  faith 
which  inspired  it,  '^  The  hand  of  our  God  is  upon  all 
them  for  good  that  seek  him — but  his  power  and  his 
%vrath  is  against  all  them  that  forsake  him."  The  Al- 
mighty will  not  suffer  this  holy  confidence  to  be  disap- 
pointed. All  the  armies  of  Artaxerxes  could  not  have 
so  strongly  guarded  the  people  of  God  as  their  invisi- 
ble, their  omnipotent  Protector. 

After  a  journey  of  four  months,  Ezra  and  his  com- 
panions arrive  at  Jerusalem — his  heart  cannot  but  feel 
a  momentary  joy  when  he  beholds  the  temple  of  Jeho- 
vah, but  soon  is  he  filled  with  heaviness  at  the  recital 
of  those  enormities  which  had  overspread  the  people. 
He  comes,  to  find  paganism  in  Judah — he  comes,  to  be- 
hold a  mixture  of  idolatrous  rites  polluting  the  service 
of  God — while  the  priests  and  rulers,  who  by  precept 
and  example  should  have  checked  this  daring  impiety, 
have  been  chief  and  foremost  in  the  trespass. 

Distracted  with  sorrow,  Ezra  sits  down  upon  the 
ground — he  rends  his  garments — he  remains  astonished 
till  the  time  of  evening  sacrifice.  Then,  rising  from  his 
heaviness,  he  spreads  out  his  hands  unto  the  God  of  his 
fathers,  professing  his  shame  to  lift  his  face  from  the 
earth — confessing  the  iniquities  of  his  people,  which 
were  increased  over  their  heads,  and  grown  up  to  hea- 
ven— acknowledging  the  just  hand  that  had  followed 
them  in  all  their  judgments,  and  the  confusion  where- 
with a  guilty  nation  were  standing  before  an  offended 
God. 


234  hall's  scripture  nisTORY. 

The  prayers  and  tears  of  Ezra  are  seconded  by  zea- 
lous and  active  exertions.  When  evil  hath  prevailed,  it 
is  the  part  of  wisdom  not  only  to  lament  but  to  redress 
it.  He  calls  on  the  Jews  to  renew  their  covenant  with 
the  Almighty — he  binds  them  by  an  oath  of  the  utmost 
solemnity  that  they  will  return  to  better  obedience. 
Tears  bespeak  their  contrition — vows,  uttered  from  the 
heart,  proclaim  them  eager  to  bring  forth  fruits  of  re- 
pentance. "  Yet  is  there  hope  in  Israel  concerning  this 
thing.  Now  therefore  let  us  make  a  covenant  with  our 
God  !  Arise,  for  this  matter  belongeth  to  thee — we  will 
also  be  with  thee.  Arise,  be  of  good  courage,  and  do 
it."  If  they  have  done  iniquity,  they  will  do  no  more — 
if  other  lords  have  had  dominion  over  them,  henceforth 
they  will  only  make  mention  of  the  name  of  Jehovah. 

O  happy  endeavors  of  the  devout  and  faithful  Ezra, 
which  have  thus  restored  Jerusalem  to  herself  and  to 
her  heavenly  King  !  God  is  not  unrighteous,  that  he 
should  forget  the  blessed  work,  the  labor  of  love.  It 
shall  be  had  in  everlasting  remembrance — it  shall  be 
proclaimed  in  that  awful  day  when  they  who  are  wise 
will  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the  firmament,  and  they 
who  turn  many  to  righteousness ^  as  the  stars  for  ever 
and  ever. 


50— NEHEMIAH 


Thirteen  years  were  expired  since  Ezra  went  up  to 
Jerusalem.  During  that  period  of  time  the  holy  man 
had  diligently  availed  himself  of  the  commission  granted 
him  by  the  king  of  Persia.    He  had  re-established  the 


NEHEMIAH.  235 

purity  of  religious  worship — he  had  introduced  a  gene- 
ral reformation  among  the  people — he  had  set  in  order 
the  services  of  the  newly-consecrated  temple.  But,  alas, 
much  remained  unfinished  which  regarded  the  welfare 
and  prosperity  of  Jerusalem.  The  walls  lay  waste — the 
city  was  ruinous — the  house  of  God  exposed  to  every 
danger  which  might  be  feared  from  the  secret  treachery 
or  open  hostility  of  their  evil  neighbors.  Ezra  sees  all 
this,  and  laments  that  he  is  unable  to  do  all  that  is 
necessary.  But  the  Lord  will  not  cast  off  his  people, 
neither  will  he  forsake  his  inheritance. 

Hanani,  a  faithful  servant  of  God,  prompted  by  his 
own  zeal  and  probably  encouraged  by  Ezra,  departs 
from  Jerusalem  to  the  court  of  Artaxerxes,  to  implore 
assistance  for  his  desponding  countrymen.  He  repairs 
to  his  brother  Nehemiah,  and  with  all  the  eloquence  of 
impassioned  grief  tells  him  that  the  people  are  in  afflic- 
tion and  reproach — that  the  fortresses  are  broken  down — 
that  the  gates  are  in  the  same  ruinous  condition  to  which 
the  fury  of  Nebuchadnezzar  had  reduced  them. 

Nehemiah  was  at  peace  in  the  court  of  Persia,  be- 
loved and  distinguished  by  his  sovereign.  He  was  in 
possession  of  all  that  the  world  holds  dear  or  desirable. 
Why  should  his  happiness  be  affected  by  the  danger  of 
Jerusalem  1  If  those  remote  walls  are  on  heaps,  he  is  in 
the  palace  of  Susa.  If  his  far-distant  countrymen  are 
despised,  he  is  held  in  honorable  estimation  by  the  mon- 
arch of  the  world !  But  the  private  felicity  of  a  good 
man  is  lost  in  the  public  distress.  When  the  head  suf- 
fers, all  the  members  suffer  with  it. 

Nehemiah  had  once  indulged  the  hope  that  the  gra- 
cious edict  of  Darius,  and  the  royal  benevolence  which 
had  been  extended  by  his  successor  to  Jerusalem,  would 
have  advanced  its  strength  and  glory.  Now,  when  he 
hears  that  the  holy  city  is  still  in  confusion,  despised 
of  men,  and,  as  it  were,  forsaken  by  God,  he  fasts  and 


236  hall's  scripture  history. 

mourns,  and  implores  the  mercy  of  heaven.  How  many- 
inhabitants  of  Jerusalem  actually  beheld  those  ruins 
with  dry  eyes,  or  at  best  were  affected  with  a  fruitless 
sorrow !  Nehemiah  hears  of  them  afar  off,  and  weeps  j 
he  resolves  to  devote  his  life  to  the  service  of  his  coun- 
try. That  grief  is  useless  which  centres  in  itself,  and  is 
not  joined  with  active  endeavors  for  redress. 

He  determines  to  throve  himself  at  the  feet  of  his 
generous  master  and  make  intercession  for  Jerusalem, 
but  he  will  first  have  recourse  to  his  God.  He  knew 
that  the  hearts  of  earthly  kings  are  under  the  guidance 
of  the  King  of  heaven ;  he  was  not  ignorant  of  the  effi- 
cacy of  fervent  prayer.  In  all  our  undertakings,  if  we 
seek  not  the  blessing  of  the  Almighty,  it  is  in  vain  to 
hope  for  permanent  success. 

Thus  armed,  thus  prepared,  Nehemiah  approaches  his 
royal  master.  The  king  beholds  him  overwhelmed  with 
sorrow — sorrow  which  he  neither  attempts  nor  wishes 
to  conceal.  His  distress  'was  visible  in  his  features,  and 
could  not  fail  of  exciting  the  curiosity  and  compassion 
of  his  lord.  He  expected  this ;  and  his  hope  is  not  frus- 
trated. ''  Why  is  thy  countenance  sad,  seeing  thou  art 
not  sick  ]  This  is  nothing  else  but  sorrow  of  heart." 
And  is  a  heathen  master  so  gracious!  is  he  so  tender 
toward  his  servant's  grief]  O  thou  Father  of  mercies 
and  God  of  all  comfort,  with  wliat  confidence  should 
the  troubled  spirit,  the  soul  in  anguish,  betake  itself  to 
thee  %  With  what  compassion  doth  thine  eye  behold 
our  miseries!  how  is  thine  ear  attentive  to  all  our 
complaints ! 

Nehemiah  dares  not  open  his  mouth  to  the  king  till 
his  heart  has  addressed  a  sudden  ejaculation  to  God. 
No  business  can  be  so  urgent  that  it  may  not  thus  be 
consecrated  to  heaven.  The  prayer  of  faith  ascends 
(even  from  the  inmost  soul)  with  rapid  wings  to  the 
throne  of  mercy.  It  can  solicit  God,  and  bring  down  an 


NEHEMIAH.  237 

answer  of  peace,  before  a  word  is  uttered  by  our  lips. 
How  can  we  expect  a  blessing,  which  we  are  either  too 
proud  or  too  careless  to  ask  1 

"  Let  the  king  live  for  ever !  Why  should  not  my 
countenance  be  sad  when  the  city,  the  place  of  my  fa- 
thers' sepulchres,  lieth  waste,  and  the  gates  thereof  are 
burnt  with  fire  V  With  an  humble  preface  doth  Nehe- 
miah  interest  the  feelings  of  the  king  before  he  utters 
his  request.  The  generous  Artaxerxes  listens  with  be- 
nignity to  his  servant,  and  cannot  but  commend  the  zeal 
he  testifies  for  his  country.  He  encourages  him  to  speak ; 
his  petition  is  granted  ere  it  can  be  uttered.  Nehemiah 
first  asks  permission  for-liis  journey,  and  next,  the  royal 
assistance  in  the  prosecution  of  his  laudable  designs. 
Both  are  readily  granted ;  and  he  departs  with  joy 
and  hope. 

The  proud  and  insolent  adversaries  of  Judah  are  cut 
to  the  heart  at  the  arrival  of  a  man  thus  qualified,  thus 
empowered  to  seek  and  to  promote  the  welfare  of  Je- 
rusalem. There  can  be  no  greater  torture  to  wicked 
minds,  than  to  behold  the  prosperity  of  God's  people. 
They  need  no  other  tormentor  than  that  which  at  such 
a  moment  lurks  in  their  own  bosoms. 

Nehemiah  soon  perceives  that  the  service  in  which 
he  is  engaged  is  full  of  difficulty  and  danger.  He  sees 
that  all  his  prudence  and  all  his  courage  must  be  called 
forth  to  avert  the  threatened  evils.  He  rises  in  the 
night  and  secretly  views  the  decayed  walls  of  Jeru- 
salem— the  ruined  gates — the  ravages  of  the  trium- 
phant heathen.  Yet  even  now  does  he  anticipate  in  his 
mind  that  complete  restitution  of  the  city  of  God 
which  her  friends  dared  not  hope,  which  not  even  her 
.jealous  and  vigilant  enemies  suspected,  or  feared. 
Having  fully  digested  this  great  work  in  his  own  mind, 
he  assembles  the  rulers  of  the  congregation — he  con- 
doles with  them  on  account  of  the  common  distress 


238  hall's  scripture  history. 

and  reproach  j  but  tells  them  of  the  hand  of  his  God 
which  was  good  upon  him.  The  people  behold  him 
with  ecstasies  of  joy,  as  one  sent  from  heaven  for  their 
support  and  comfort.  With  hopes  to  which  their  souls 
had  long  been  strangers,  they  cry  out  in  transports  of 
zeal,  "  Let  us  rise  up  and  build."  No  man  is  idle — no 
part  is  intermitted — every  Israelite  knows  his  station. 
All  Jerusalem  is  at  once  encompassed  with  busy  labor- 
ers. What  greater  success  can  be  expected  than  from 
the  joint  endeavors  of  faithful  hearts  united  under  the 
protection  of  Godi 

At  the  commencement  of  the  work  the  adversaries  of 
Judah  are  full  of  scorn — its  rapid  progress  converts 
their  derision  into  rage.  The  Moabites,  Ammonites, 
Arabians  conspire  against  the  holy  city,  and,  ere  the 
battlements  are  set  up,  seek  to  demolish  those  envied 
ramparts.  Wherein  hath  Sion  offended  1  Was  it  crimi- 
nal to  seek  the  means  of  security  1  Was  there  any 
danger  that  the  Jews  would  rebel  against  Artaxerxes, 
or  carry  on  offensive  war  against  the  neighboring 
states  1  Had  it  been  so,  there  might  appear  some  pre- 
tence for  this  hostile  disposition — but,  alas,  how  could 
the  feeble  remnant  of  an  afflicted  and  persecuted  nation 
be  formidable  1  Jerusalem  only  endeavors  not  to  be 
miserable — and  lo,  the  heathen  rage,  and  the  people 
imagine  a  vain  thing.  The  enemies  stand  up,  the  Gen- 
tiles take  counsel  together  against  the  children  of  God. 

Meanwhile,  how  do  Nehemiah  and  the  Jews  consult 
their  common  safety  1  They  pray  to  God — they  watch 
against  their  assailants.  The  adversaries  of  our  salva- 
tion are  furious  if  the  contrite  heart  endeavors  to  se- 
cure itself  against  their  assaults — but  we  know  how  to 
prevail  against  those  spiritual  wickednesses  which  war 
against  our  souls.  No  evil  can  surprise  us  if  we  watchy 
no  evil  can  hurt  us  if  we  pray. 

The  enemy  was  subtle  and  malicious :  "  They  shall 


NEHEMIAH.  239 

neither  know  nor  see  till  we  come  in  the  midst  of  them 
and  slay  them."  Open  force  is  not  so  dangerous  as 
secret  dissimulation.  They  would  seem  Jews  while 
they  were  Moabites  and  Ammonites,  and  would  come 
under  the  disguise  of  brethren  for  purposes  of  murder. 

Nehemiah,  aware  of  the  impending  danger,  calls  to- 
gether the  faithful  people  of  God — bids  them  remember 
the  Lord,  who  is  great  and  terrible,  and  fight  for  their 
brethren,  their  sons  and  their  daughters,  their  wives 
and  their  houses.  Motives  like  these  cannot  fail  of  in- 
spiring courage — cannot  but  animate  the  weakest  heart. 
Nothing  can  excite  the  militant  soul  to  stand  fast  in  the 
day  of  adversity  so  mufch  as  the  remembrance  of  that 
infinite  power  and  wisdom  which  can  either  avert,  or 
mitigate,  or  sanctify  it. 

The  task  is  now  divided:  each  zealous  Hebrew  is  a 
workman  and  a  soldier.  What  an  image  is  here  of  that 
church  where  every  one  labors  invested  with  chris- 
tian armor — where  every  one  so  works  that  he  is 
ready  to  ward  off  all  assailants — where  diligence  is  not 
hazardous,  nor  valor  fruitless  ! 

But  what  can  weapons  avail  if  there  are  no  means  to 
warn  us  against  an  enemy  1  Without  a  trumpet  we  are 
armed  in  vain.  The  work  is  large,  and  we  are  sepa- 
rated one  from  another — only  the  sacred  trumpet  of 
God  calls  us  to  associate  for  our  mutual  preservation. 
Wo  b«  to  the  watchman,  if  the  sound  he  gives  be 
uncertain  !  Wo  be  to  the  people,  if  when  they  hear 
the  sound  they  resort  not  to  the  signal !  United  forces 
may  prosper — single  opposition  is  desperate.  All  hands 
and  hearts  must  meet  together  in  the  cause  of  truth 
and  of  God. 

Discovered  stratagems  are  already  in  a  great  mea- 
sure   prevented.    The    adversaries    of  Jerusalem   hear 
that  the  city  hath  warning.    They  relinquish  their  exc 
crablc  purpose — they  depart  in  shame  and  confusion. 


240  hall's  scripture  history. 

Nehemiah,  delivered  from  the  impending  danger, 
completes  the  fortifications  of  the  holy  city.  No  long- 
er is  she  a  reproach  to  the  nations  of  the  earth.  All  is 
accomplished  which  can  tend  to  the  peace,  the  welfare, 
the  dignity,  the  security  of  Sion.  And  now,  what  re- 
ward shall  be  given  to  the  deliverer  of  his  country! 
What  bright  recompense  shall  crown  his  assiduous  la- 
bors! He  needs,  he  seeks,  he  will  accept  no  other 
than  is  afforded  by  the  conscious  feelings  of  his  heart. 
He  calls  upon  his  God  to  think  on  him  for  good — to 
keep  in  memory  what  he  hath  done  for  his  brethren. 

Blessed  are  they  that  always  keep  judgment  and  do 
righteousness  !  They  shall  be  thine,  O  Lord,  in  that  day 
when  thou  makest  up  thy  jewels.  Thou  shalt  remem- 
ber them  with  thy  peculiar  favor — thou  shalt  visit  them 
with  thy  salvation.  They  shall  see  the  felicity  of  thy 
chosen — they  shall  rejoice  in  the  gladness  of  thy  peo- 
ple— they  shall  give  thanks  with  thine  inheritance. 


51.— ESTHER. 

What  bounds  can  be  assigned  to  human  ambition  1 
Ahasuerus,  king  of  Persia,  whose  empire  was  extended 
to  the  most  distant  regions  of  the  globe,  prepares  to  add 
yet  other  provinces  to  his  conquests.  He  cannot  hope 
to  see  the  land  he  now  possesses,  and  yet  he  cannot  rest 
while  he  hears  of  more.  How  small  a  portion  of  earth 
is  sufficient  for  the  mighty  dead,  whom,  while  living,  a 
whole  world  could  scarcely  satisfy  1  How  vain  and  fri- 
volous is  that  happiness  which  depends  on  popular  ap- 
plause— on  the  exaggeration  of  those  titles  which  are 
very  far  from  conducing  to  real  glory  1    Nothing  can 


ESTHER.  241 

properly  fill  the  heart  of  man  but  He  who  made  it. 

Ahasuerus,  by  way  of  triumph  for  his  past  victories, 
and  with  a  view  of  animating  his  princes  and  soldiers 
to  future  exploits,  makes  a  feast,  like  himself,  princely 
and  magnificent.  For  six  whole  months  the  people,  the 
nations  and  the  languages  resort  to  Susa.  The  spa- 
cious court  of  the  palace  is  turned  into  a  royal  hall — • 
the  walls  are  of  rich  hangings — the  pillars  of  marble — 
the  couches  enriched  with  silver — the  pavement  of  por- 
phyry— the  vessels  of  the  purest  gold. 

Amidst  all  this  princely  magnificence,  in  the  height 
of  his  ostentation  and  <?lory,  the  lord  of  Asia  finds  him- 
self despised  and  set  at  nought  by  a  capricious  woman. 
The  scorn  and  disobedience  of  his  queen,  so  publicly 
demonstrated  to  the  world,  at  once  eclipses  all  his 
magnificence,  fills  that  heart  with  sorrow  which  had 
expected  nothing  but  joy,  and  puts  the  king  of  so  many 
kings  to  shame  before  those  very  nobles  whom  he  meant 
to  send  away  astonished  at  his  power  and  majesty. 

The  Jews  were  only  partially  returned  to  the  land  of 
their  captivity  ;  many  of  that  wretched  people  were  yet 
in  the  dominions  of  Ahasuerus — all  were  under  the  scep- 
tre of  his  power.  Lo,  the  mercy  of  God  causes  light  to 
arise  in  the  midst  of  darkness,  to  cheer  the  hearts  of  a 
repentant  and  afflicted  nation.  The  pious  and  faithful 
Esther  is  called  on  to  share  the  throne  of  Ahasuerus,  ia 
place  of  the  repudiated  Vashti.  It  was  happy  for  this 
orphan  that,  in  the  land  of  her  captivity,  the  tenderness 
of  Mordecai  had  fulfilled  all  those  duties  which  the 
early  death  of  her  parents  forbade  them  to  discharge. 
Above  all  things,  he  impressed  upon  lier  young  mind 
those  religions  sentiments  which  preserved  her  con- 
stancy unshaken  amidst  the  severest  trials — taught  her, 
in  an  idolatrous  city,  to  worship  the  God  of  Israel — 
taught  her,  while  in  the  splendid  palace  of  Susa,  to 
think  with  the  fondest  afl^ection  on  Jerusalem. 

Script.  Hirt.  1 1 


She  prays,  she  meditates  in  secret — for  Mordecai,  on 
her  advancement  to  the  royal  dignity,  enjoined  her  to 
conceal  for  a  season  the  circumstances  of  her  birth.  Her 
unparalleled  beauty  had  raised  her  to  the  throne — he 
feared  lest  (while  her  honors  were  yet  unsettled)  the 
mention  of  her  captivity  might  expose  her  to  unmerited 
contempt ;  he  looked  forward  to  the  time  when  her  vir- 
tues should  endear  her  to  every  heart ;  when  her  name 
should  dignify  her  nation,  and  take  away  the  reproach 
from  the  people  of  God. 

The  office  of  jMordecal  led  him  to  daily  attendance  at 
the  palace  of  Ahasuerus — his  piety  and  religion  taught 
him  faithfulness  in  his  service.  Two  of  the  king's  cham- 
berlains conspire  against  the  life  of  their  lord.  Morde- 
cai discovers  the  meditated  treason,  and  reveals  it  at 
once  to  Esther.  With  what  joy  does  the  queen  avail 
herself  of  this  opportunity  to  commend  in  public  the 
fidelity  of  one  whom  she  secretly  loved  and  honored  ! 
She  imparts  the  discovery  to  the  king  in  the  name  of 
Mordecai ;  the  circumstances  are  examined  ;  the  plot  is 
discovered  ;  the  traitors  executed ;  the  service  record- 
ed in  the  Persian  annals.  No  greatness  can  afford  a  se- 
curity from  malice  or  violence.  He  who  ruled  over  mil- 
lions of  men,  the  lord  of  an  hundred  and  twenty-seven 
provinces,  extending  from  India  to  Ethiopia,  is  in  dan- 
ger of  his  life  by  the  arm  of  an  assassin.  How  much 
more  happy  is  the  meanest  christian !  He  can  look  for- 
ward to  a  crown  incorruptible,  undefiled,  and  that  fadeth 
not  away,  reserved  for  him  in  the  regions  cf  glory.  No 
force,  no  treason  can  reach  thither;  there  can  be  no 
peril  either  of  violence  or  forfeiture. 

Without  any  other  recompense  than  is  afforded  by 
his  own  conscious  virtue,  Mordecai  returns  to  the  du- 
ties of  his  office.  Little  did  the  people  imagine  that  the 
child  of  his  adoption  was  seated  in  the  throne  of  Persia ; 
little  did  the  proud  Haman  imagine  that  the  man  who 


ESTHEn. 


243 


refused  to  pay  obeisance  to  his  new-born  dignity  stood 
BO  nearly  connected  with  the  empress  of  the  world ! 

All  the  servants,  all  the  subjects  of  Ahasuerus,  fall 
prostrate,  by  the  king^s  command,  before  his  minion. 
Mordecai  cannot,  dares  not  pay  this  forbidden  homage. 
His  companions  charge  him  with  disobedience,  and 
spare  not  the  language  of  expostulation  :  he  is  silent 
for  a  while  ;  at  last  he  imparts  thus  much,  in  justifica- 
tion of  his  conduct;  "Let  it  suffice  that  I  am  a  Jew, 
and  Haman  an  Amalekite." 

How  prone  are  men  to  hate  those  who  are  deaf  to 
their  persuasions  !  The  associates  of  Mordecai  hasten 
to  inform  the  favorite  ,that  a  proud  and  stubborn  Jew 
sat  among  them,  who  scorned  to  bow  the  knee  to  his 
greatness.  No  sooner  is  the  accusation  made  than  the 
Agagite  in  a  transport  of  fury  repairs  to  the  king's  gate, 
that  he  might  view  the  man  who  dared  deny  reverence 
to  the  greatest  prince  of  Persia.  How  did  his  eyes 
sparkle  with  fury  when  he  saw  that  no  apprehension  of 
personal  danger  could  prevail  on  Mordecai  to  trans- 
gress the  law  of  his  God ! 

A  Jew  had  offended  Hamr\n;  the  whole  nation  must 
perish  to  assuage  his  wrath.  The  monarchy  of  the 
world  was  now  in  the  hands  of  Ahasuerus;  scarcely 
was  there  a  Hebrew  upon  earth  out  of  the  reach  of 
Haman's  fury  and  his  master's  power.  The  generation 
shall  die  at  once  ;  the  people  who  had  been  renowned 
for  so  many  thousand  years  shall  fall  a  sacrifice,  in  a 
moment,  to  the  indignant  pride  of  Haman.  Perhaps  the 
hereditary  quarrel  between  Israel  and  Amalek  inflamed 
his  rage  and  gave  fresh  vigor  to  his  resentment. 

Having  previously  determined  on  the  day  for  the  in- 
tended massacre,*  he  repairs  to  Ahasuerus  in  a  careless 

♦  It  seems  to  have  been  a  provideniial  interference  of  God,  thai 
the  day  fixed  on  by  lot  for  the  perpeiration  of  this  atrocious  act 


244  hall's  scripture  history. 

confidence  of  success.  He  demands,  as  if  it  were  a  tri- 
vial request,  that  a  certain  people  scattered  among  the 
king's  provinces,  a  people  differing  in  laws  and  customs 
from  the  rest  of  mankind,  a  people  useless  and  burden^ 
some,  if  not  actually  dangerous,  may  be  exterminated 
from  the  face  of  the  earth.  How  easy  is  it  to  suggest 
untruths  when  there  is  no  man  to  answer!  That  the 
Jews  were  dispersed  was  their  misery,  not  their  choice  j 
it  was  a  circumstance  which  should  have  disarmed  re- 
sentment and  pleaded  for  pity  ;  often  did  they  cry  unto 
God  in  sorrow  of  heart,  "Have  mercy  on  us,  O  Lord^ 
and  save  us;  our  soul  is  full  of  contempt ;  we  are  scat- 
tered among  the  heathen  !"  That  they  were  seditious^ 
was  a  most  unjust  and  cruel  slander.  Their  laws  en- 
joined obedience,  and  denounced  vengeance  against  re- 
bellion. That  their  extinction  would  tend  to  the  glory 
and  welfare  of  Ahasuerus  is  a  charge  which  Haman 
himself  disproves,  while  in  contradiction  to  his  own  as- 
sertions he  offers  ten  thousand  talents  of  silver  to  the 
royal  treasury  as  the  price  of  innocent  blood! 

Too  long  had  the  king  been  enslaved  to  his  unworthy 
favorite.  Without  considering  the  weight  of  these  spe- 
cious arguments,  he  delivers  to  the  sanguinary  monster 
his  royal  signet.  The  secretaries  are  called — messengers 
are  despatched  into  all  the  provinces — the  day  is  ap- 
pointed on  which  all  Jews,  without  regard  to  age  or 
sex,  through  the  whole  extent  of  the  Persian  empire, 
shall  be  sacrificed  to  the  wrath  of  Haman. 

Who  shall  express  the  tears,  the  lamentations,  the  out- 
cries of  this  miserable  and  devoted  people  when  the 
fatal  decree  was  promulgated  1  Above  all,  who  shall 
attempt  to  paint  the  grief  of  Mordecai  \    "  Alas,  am  not 


should  have  been  at  so  considerable  a  distance  of  time  from  the 
projfciing  of  it.  In  the  period  of  eleven  months  the  treachery  of 
Hdraan  was  discovered,  and  the  Jews  were  spared. 


ESTHER.  245 

I  the  sole  cause  of  this  general  calamity  1  Could  I  have 
imagined  that  the  revenge  of  Haman  would  have  been 
thus  dreadfully  extensive!  Had  it  terminated  in  my 
blood,  I  had  died  contented — now,  to  have  brought 
death  on  so  many  thousands  of  innocents,  what  sorrow 
equals  mine  1  Why  did  I  contest  with  so  powerful  an 
enemy  %  Why  did  I  not  hide  myself  from  the  face  of 
that  proud  Amalekite  \  Alas,  no  man  of  Israel  will  live 
to  curse  me — mine  enemies  only  shall  record  my  name 
with  ignominy,  and  say,  Mordecai  was  the  bane  of  his 
people!  O  Lord,  if  my  presumption  hath  incurred  thy 
displeasure,  in  what  have  thy  coptive  tribes  offended  1 
O  let  it  be  thy  just  mer<;y  that  I  should  perish  alone!" 

Such  thoughts  as  these  were  doubtless  in  the  breast 
of  Mordecai  while  he  walked  in  sackcloth  before  that 
palace  whcreinto  no  mun  was  suffered  to  enter  in  the 
habit  of  a  mourner.  How  different  are  the  ways  of  God 
from  those  of  man.  That  which  caused  exclusion  from 
the  court  of  Ahasuerus,  opens  ivide  the  portals  of  hea- 
ven. The  sa-crifice  of  God  is  a  broken  spirit — a  broken 
and  a  contrite  heart,  0  God,  thou  wilt. not  despise. 

The  public  sorrow  of  Mordecai  cannot  long  be  con- 
cealed  from  Esther.  Her  diadem,  her  royal  purple  af- 
ford her  no  joy  while  the  friend  she  loves  and  honors  is 
sitting  in  sackcloth  and  ashes.  With  what  e<?nsternation 
dose  she  learn  the  cause  of  his  grief  I  How  does  her 
heart  faint  within  her  when  she  receives  the  charge  of 
h€r  kinsman  to  exert  all  her  power,  all  her  interest  with 
the  monarch  of  Persia  in  behalf  of  her  afflicted  people. 
Alas,  whoever  dares  enter  into  the  royal  presence  un- 
called must  die — nothing  but  the  extended  sceptre  can 
rescue  the  offender  from  the  grave.  Esther  could  only 
bewail,  she  could  not  hope  to  avert  the  impending  cviL 

Mordecai  will  not  be  thus  discouraged — thouj^h  he 
mourns,  he  will  not  utterly  despair.  Again  he  addresses 
the  queen  in  more  animated  language.  "  What,  is  it  death 


246  hall's  scripture  history. 

thou  fearest  1  Hast  thou  any  thing  but  death  to  expect 
if  thou  avoidest  the  present  clanger  1  Art  thou  not  of  the 
race  of  Israel  1  If  these  unalterable  edicts  exempt  no  in- 
dividual of  our  nation,  how  shalt  thou  escape  1  Wilt  thou 
prefer  certain  peril  to  the  possibility  of  hope  1  Away  with 
this  weak  timidity,  unworthy  a  believer,  unworthy  a 
queen.  But  if  fear  or  policy  withhold  thine  aid  from  thy 
people,  if  thou  neglect  the  church  of  God,  God  will  not 
neglect  it.  It  shall  not  be  in  the  power  of  tyrants  to  ex- 
terminate the  chosen  seed — the  Holy  One  of  Israel  shall 
rather  work  miracles  from  heaven,  than  that  his  inherit- 
ance shall  perish  on  earth,  or  that  his  own  prophecy  shall 
fail.  Let  me  then  adjure  thee  by  that  tender  love  which 
trained  up  thine  orphan  infancy — by  those  grateful  sen- 
timents thou  hast  expressed  in  return — by  the  name  of 
the  God  whom  we  adore — that  thou  awaken  thine  holy 
courage,  and  adventure  thy  life  for  thy  people.  Hath  it 
not  pleased  the  Almighty  to  exalt  thee  to  that  pre  emi- 
nence of  honor  for  this  very  purpose,  that  light  may 
arise  by  thee  to  them  that  sit  in  darkness,  that  the  rem- 
nant of  his  chosen  servants  may  be  saved  by  thee  from 
utter  destruction!" 

Mordecai  has  said  enough — his  words  have  inspired 
Esther  with  becoming  intrepidity.  "  Go,  gather  the  Jews 
that  are  present  in  Susa,  and  fast  ye  for  me — I  will  fast 
likewise — and  so  will  I  go  unto  the  king,  which  is  not 
according  to  the  law;  and  if  I  perish,  I  perish."  Heroic 
thoughts  befit  great  actions.  The  pious  queen  trusts  to 
her  devotions  rather  than  her  beauty.  "This  is  the  vic- 
tory that  overcometh  the  world,  even  our  faith." 


THE    DEATH    OF    HAMAJf.  247 


52.— THE   DEATH   OF   HAMAN. 

The  time  devoted  to  prayer  and  abstinence  is  expired 
— Esther,  arrayed  in  royal  apparel,  meekly  submitting 
herself  to  the  will  of  Heaven,  advances  to  the  throne 
of  Ahasuerus.  In  her  look,  in  her  demeanor,  courage 
seems  blended  with  diffidence.  As  if  she  said,  "It  is 
necessity,  not  disobedience,  that  leads  me  to  this  bold 
approach — according  to  thy  will,  O  king,  I  live  or  die 
— I  am  prepared  for  either  alternative." 

The  unexpected  presence  of  Esther,  her  beauty,  her 
magnanimity  at  once  delight  her  lord  and  excite  pity 
in  his  breast.  Love  hastens  to  banish  fear.  The  king 
held  out  to  Esther  the  golden  sceptre  that  was  in  his 
hand.  Without  this  act  of  clemency  her  life  had  been 
forfeited.  The  Persian  monarchs  afTected  to  conceal 
themselves  in  stern  retirement  from  the  eyes  of  their 
subjects.  It  was  death  to  solicit  them  uncalled.  Blessed 
are  they  who  dwell  in  the  courts  of  that  King  of  kings 
who  is  always  more  ready  to  hear  than  v.'e  to  pray,  who 
is  never  inaccessible — never  v/earied  by  our  requests. 
His  compassions  fail  not — in  his  presence  is  life — his 
mercies  are  renewed  every  morning! 

The  royal  suppliant  is  not  only  received  with  pardon, 
but  cheered  with  words  of  more  than  common  benignity. 
"  What  wilt  thou,  queen  Esther,  and  what  is  thy  re- 
quest \  It  shall  be  given  thee,  even  to  the  half  of  the 
kingdom."  How  is  the  mercy  of  God  majnified  \i\ 
times  of  extraordinary  difficulty  and  danger  f  She  who 
had  trembled  at  the  austerity  of  Ahasuerus,  is  now 
amazed  at  his  munificence.  Surely  the  king's  heart  is 
in  the  hands  of  the  Lord,  as  the  rivers  of  water — He 
turneth  it  whithersoever  he  will. 

The  wise  queen  thinks  it  not  good  to  make  her  re- 
quest too  suddenly.  Well  aware  of  the  importance  of  her 


243  hall's  scripture  history. 

Buit,  she  desires  to  prepare  the  mind  of  Ahasuerus  for 
its  reception.  The  Inng  and  Haman  are  called  to  the 
banquet.  Again  is  Esther  solicited  to  unfold  the  object 
of  her  wishes — again  she  hesitates,  as  fearing  to  speak 
— another  banquet,  on  the  ensuing  day,  shall  give  utter- 
ance to  the  purposes  of  her  heart — the  haughty  favor- 
ite is  once  more  invited  to  the  royal  pavilion. 

But  still  Mordecai  is  an  alloy  to  his  happiness — no 
edict  of  death  can  bow  his  knee — before,  he  looked  at 
Haman  as  an  Amalekite,  now,  as  a  persecutor. 

No  doubt  he  had  received  early  intelligence  from 
Esther  of  her  gracious  welcome — of  the  extent  of  the 
king's  promise.  He  has  thrown  ofT  his  sackcloth — his 
couraofe  is  raised  to  a  more  scornful  nesflect  of  his  inso- 
lent  adversary.  Honest  indignation  sparkles  in  his  eyes 
and  bids  the  proud  Haman  defiance. 
'  Full  of  rage  and  fury,  the  minion  returns  to  his  palace. 
He  assembles  his  family  and  friends — descants  on  his 
magnificence,  the  height  of  his  favor,  the  excellency  of 
his  glory — "  Yet  all  this  avails  me  nothing,  so  long  as  I 
see  ]\Iordecai  the  Jew  sitting  at  the  king's  gate."  The 
darlings  of  the  world  are  strangers  to  perfect  happiness 
— some  latent  sorrow  shall  still  disturb  their  best  en- 
joyments, and  make  even  their  prosperity  miserable. 

The  wife  of  Haman  stimulates  him  to  instant  revenge 
— her  impatience  will  not  wait  for  the  distant  month 
Adar.  All  the  council  applaud  her  murderous  design — 
'*  Let  a  gallows  be  made  fifty  cubits  high,  and  to-mor- 
row speak  thou  to  the  king  that  Mordecai  may  be  hanged 
thereon — then  go  thou  in  merrily  with  the  king  unto  the 
banquet."  But  God  had  other  designs  for  his  ajfHicted 
church,  and,  in  the  very  instant  of  intended  mischief, 
he  accomplishes  his  purpose  of  mercy.  He,  '*  who  nei- 
ther slumbereth  nor  sleepeth,"  causeth  sleep  that  night 
to  depart  from  Ahasuerus.  Either  to  beguile  the  time, 
or  to  employ  it  well,  the  king  commands  the  written 


THE   DEATH    OF    IIAMAN.  219 

chronicles  ot  Persia  to  be  brought  before  him.  The  un- 
erring hand  of  Providence  directs  him  to  the  record  of 
Mordecai's  past  zeal — of  that  vigilant  fidelity  which 
preserved  the  monarch  of  the  world  from  nightly  assas- 
sination. 

Alarmed  at  the  very  recollection  of  such  imminent 
danger,  the  king  feels  new  gratitude  arise  in  his  bosom, 
With  the  anxiety  of  a  generous  mind,  he  demands  what 
honor  has  been  shown  to  Mordecai  in  return  for  his  ser- 
vice j  and  he  learns  with  sorrow,  that  the  merit  to  which 
he  was  indebted  for  life,  has  been  too  long  neglected  and 
forgotten. 

The  implacable  Ham'an  was  already  in  the  outer 
court  of  the  palace  to  demnnd  the  head  of  Mordecai.  He 
is  commanded  to  approach  ;  and  ere  he  can  utter  the 
purpose  of  his  wicked  heart,  his  master  prevents  him — 
"  What  shall  be  done  to  the  man  whom  the  king  delight- 
eth  to  honor  V 

Could  Haman  have  thought  that  the  question  concern- 
ed any  mortal  but  himself,  he  had  not  so  lavishly  con- 
sulted a  display  of  such  magnificence.  He  had  already 
the  power  of  Ahasuerus — he  covets  a  temporary  investi- 
titre  of  his  royal  dignity.  The  crown  shall  be  on  his 
head — the  mantle  of  the  king  upon  his  shoulders — no 
meaner  person  shall  attend  him  in  his  supposed  great- 
ness, than  one  of  the  noblest  princes — the  streets  of 
Susa  shall  witness  the  pomp  and  echo  with  the  splendid 
proclamation,  '^  Thus  shall  it  be  done  to  the  man  whom 
the  king  delighteth  to  honor  !" 

Never  is  the  heart  of  man  so  cold  within  him  as 
when  from  the  height  of  expected  good  it  falls  at  once 
into  evil.  What  were  the  sensations  of  thy  breast,  O  Ha- 
man, when  thou  heardest  the  killing  word,  "  Do  thou  this 
to  Mordecai !"  Hast  thou  but  one  proud  enemy  in  the 
world,  and  art  thou  singled  out  to  grace  himl  Did  it 
embitter  all  thy  happiness,  that  this  Jew  would  not  Ao 
11* 


250 

©"beisance  to  thee,  and  must  thou  bow  to  him  1  Must 
thou  be  his  herald  to  proclaim  his  honor  through  Susal 
M'^hy  dost  thou  not  signify  to  thy  master  the  purport  of 
thy  coming  ]  Why  dost  thou  not  speak  of  thy  murder- 
ous preparations  1 

The  mortified  Haman  retires  in  distraction  of  heart, 
and  prepares  for  the  hated  service.  When  Mordecai 
«ees  his  enemy  approach,  he  imagines  himself  already 
summoned  to  execution — when  he  sees  the  purple  robe, 
he  says  in  his  heart,  "Is  it  not  enough  that  he  kill  me, 
but  he  must  insult  my  last  distress  1"  But  when  he  sees 
the  royal  crown  ready  to  be  set  on  his  head,  and  marks 
the  submissive  gestures  of  Haman,  and  finds  that  no 
mockery  is  intended,  he  concludes  that  this  proceeds 
from  Esther^s  intercession — he  lifts  up  his  heart  with 
joy — he  forms  the  most  auspicious  hope  for  himself  and 
for  his  people. 

With  a  covered  head  and  dejected  countenance  the 
Amalekite  hastens  home  to  impart  his  sorrows.  He  as- 
sembles his  wife  and  friends — miserable  comforters  are 
they  all!  *' If  Mordecai  be  of  the  seed  of  the  Jews  be- 
fore whom  thou  hast  begun  to  fall,  thou  shalt  not  pre- 
vail against  him,  but  thou  shalt  surely  fall  before  him." 
Out  of  the  mouth  of  Pagans,  O  God,  hast  thou  ordained 
truth,  that  thou  mightest  still  the  enemy  and  the  avenger. 
O  Lord,  thou  art  the  same  yesterday,  and  today,  and  for 
ever.  If  we  be  thy  spiritual  Israel,  neither  earth  nor 
hell  shall  prevail  against  us — we  shall  surely  stand,  or 
surely  rise,  while  thine  enemies  shall  lick  the  dust. 

The  vengeance  which  has  hitherto  slept  is  now 
Qwake,  and  prepares  itself  for  just  execution.  While 
the  presage  of  evil  is  scarcely  uttered,  its  completion 
is  begun.  The  messengers  of  Ahasuerus  call  Haman  in 
haste  to  the  fatal  banquet. 

The  king  is  now  impatient  for  the  long  delaj'ed  suit 
of  Esther.    Thrice  had  he  pledged  himself  to  grant  her 


THE    DEATH    OF   HAMAN.  251 

request,  though  it  should  extend  to  half  his  kingdom. 
The  same  wisdom  which  deferred  the  prayer,  now 
brings  it  suddenly  forward.  To  every  thing  there  is  a 
season — a  time  to  keep  silence  and  a  lime  to  speak. 
"  If  I  have  found  favor  in  thy  sight,  O  king,  let  my 
life  be  given  me  at  my  petition,  and  my  people  at  my 
request."  Ahasuerus  expected  some  high  and  difficult 
boon  ;  now  that  he  hears  his  queen  beg  for  /(/«?,  he  is 
transported  with  fury  against  her  yet  unknown  adver- 
sary :  he  interrupts  her  speech  with  vehement  indigna- 
tion, and  as  if  he  had  heard  too  much  already,  furiously 
exclaims,  "Who  is  he  1  Where  is  he,  that  durst  pre- 
sume in  his  heart  to  do  sol" 

How  differently  do  we  behold  the  same  actions  un- 
der different  impressions  of  mind !  When  Ahasuerus 
had  signed  the  decree  for  the  massacre  of  the  Jews,  he 
sat  down  carelessly  to  the  feast  with  his  favorite — now, 
when  he  hears  the  partner  of  his  throne  is  involved  in 
their  danger,  he  can  scarce  contain  the  transports  of 
his  heart,  while  the  royal  suppliant,  fixing  her  eyes  on 
her  hated  persecutor,  cries  out  with  undaunted  courage, 
"  The  adversary  and  enemy  is  this  wicked  Haman  !" 

Ahasuerus  rises  from  the  unfinished  banquet,  hurried 
away  by  the  tempest  of  his  passions.  The  criminal  sees 
his  fate  denounced  against  him  in  the  angry  looks  of 
his  master.  His  tongue  falters,  his  lips  tremble,  his 
guilty  heart  fails  him.  With  a  meanness  proportioncii 
to  his  former  wickedness,  he  prostrates  himself  before 
the  queen  in  agonies  of  despair.  Even  this  act  of  sub- 
mission is  misinterpreted  by  the  enraged  Ahasuerus  on 
his  return  to  the  pavilion.  "  The  wrath  of  the  king  is  a 
message  of  death."  The  face  of  Haman  is  covered  for 
his  approaching  execution.  No  more  shall  he  behold 
the  sun.  They  who  had  before  done  homage  to  the 
successful  favorite,  congratulate  each  other,  and  insult 
him   on  his   downfall.    Ahasuerus   is  made  acquainted 


252 

with  his  intended  malice  against  the  faithful  Mordecai* 
Haman  is  doomed,  by  a  just  decree,  to  that  ignominious 
engine  of  death  which  he  had  prepared  for  the  object 
of  his  hatred.  The  Jews  have  light,  and  gladness,  and 
joy,  and  honor.  The  sentence  against  them  cannot  be 
reversed — its  danger  is  seasonably  prevented.  Mor- 
decai  succeeds  to  the  dignity  so  justly  forfeited  by  the 
impious  Haman.  He  who  sat  in  the  gate  is  made  next 
unto  the  throne.  The  feast  of  Purim  is  ordained  for  a 
perpetual  memory  of  the  deliverance  of  the  people  of 
God. 

"Behold!  the  wicked  travaileth  with  mischief:  he 
hath  conceived  sorrow  and  brought  forth  ungodliness — 
he  made  a  pit  and  digged  it,  and  is  fallen  himself  into 
the  destruction  that  he  made  for  others.  Wherefore 
then  should  he  blaspheme  God,  while  he  doth  say  in  his 
heart,  "  Thou  wilt  not  require  it  ?"  "  Surely  thou  hast 
seen  it ;  for  thou  beholdest  ungodliness  and  wrong — that 
thou  mayest  take  the  matter  into  thine  hand — the  poor 
committeth  himself  to  thee  j  for  thou  art  the  helper  of 
the  friendless." 


THE 

NEW    TESTAMENT. 


53.— THE  ANGEL  AND  ZACHARIAS. 

The  time  of  the  promise  draweth  nigh — the  Sun  of 
Righteousness  is  ahout  to  arise  with  healing  in  his 
wings.  Already  do  we  see  the  dawn  which  proclaims 
the  approach  of  day.  "  Comfort  ye,  comfort  ye,  my 
people,  saith   our  God." 

'*  When  the  Son  of  man  cometh,  shall  he  find  faith  on 
the  earth  1"  The  demand,  O  Savior,  had  a  view  to  thy 
second  advent — it  was  but  too  applicable  to  thy  firsL 
The  Jewish  church  was  in  a  state  of  extreme  corrup- 
tion when  the  harbinger  of  the  glorious  Gospel  was 
Bent  into  the  world.  Yet,  bad  as  it  was,  not  only  the 
priesthood  but  the  courses  of  attendance  continued  even 
from  David's  time  till  Christ.  A  settled  good  is  not 
easily  defeated.  Often  does  it  remain  unchanged  even 
in  the  change  of  persons,  and  when  at  length  it  is  com- 
pelled to  give  way,  it  fails  not  to  leave  memorable 
traces  behind  it.  If  David  foresaw  that  these  holy  or- 
dinances would  continue  till  the  coming  of  the  Messiah, 
how  did  he  rejoice,  how  did  he  bless  the  God  who 
loved  Sion  and  declared  it  to  be  his  rest  for  ever  ! 

The  services  of  the  legal  ministration  were  uninter- 
rupted. But,  alas,  how  little  remained  of  that  spiritual 
life,  without  which  the  law  and  all  its  institutions  were 
fruitless  and  imperfect!  That  filial  obedience  which 
flowed  from  the  heart,  was  for  the  most  part  vanished. 
The  temple  yet  was  standing  when  the  ministers  of 


254"  hall's  scripture  history. 

the  temple  delighted  in  sacrilege  and  impiety.  The  or- 
dinance yet  remained,  while  hypocrisy  and  every  spe- 
cies of  guilt  were  arrayed  in  the  vestments  of  sanctity. 

Yet  never  were  times  so  desperate  as  not  to  yield 
some  remnant  of  good.  Some  fruitful  ears  of  corn  are 
to  be  found  even  in  the  midst  of  famine.  Zacharias 
and  Elizabeth  were  righteous  before  God  in  a  degene- 
rate age — in  days  of  grievous  depravity  they  walked  in 
all  the  ordinances  of  God  blameless.  Distinguished  by 
piety  and  exemplary  virtue,  while  their  souls  were 
united  in  duty  to  heaven,  as  their  hearts  in  affection  to 
each  other,  they  descended  together  into  the  vale  of 
years. 

The  God  whom  they  so  devoutly  served  thought 
proper  to  exercise  the  faith  and  patience  of  these  his 
saints.  "They  had  no  child,  because  Elizabeth  was 
barren."  During  the  greatest  part  of  her  life  the  holy 
matron  was  childless:  a  circumstance  always  lamented 
under  the  Jewish  dispensation,  but  now  more  particu- 
larly deplored  when  the  people  were  awakened  to  the 
expectation  of  their  promised  Deliverer.  Of  parents 
thus  advanced  in  age  the  herald  of  Christ  was  to  be 
Ijorn — that  the  miraculous  manner  of  his  birth  might 
excite  the  attention  of  mankind,  and  dispose  them  to 
listen  to  his  voice  when  it  should  be  heard  in  the  wil- 
derness ;  while  it  prepared  them  for  that  still  greater 
event  foretold  by  the  prophet,  "Behold,  a  virgin  shall 
conceive,  and  shall  bring  forth  a  son!" 

The  promise  to  Zacharias  was  made  at  the  time  of 
incense,  when  having  put  on  the  robe  of  honor,  and 
being  clothed  with  beautiful  garments,  he  entered  the 
temple.  The  people  assembled  without,  sent  up  their 
united  prayers  to  the  throne  of  grace,  through  the  in- 
tercession of  him  who  represented  "  One  that  should 
arise  after  the  order  of  Melchisedec,  and  not  after  the 
order  of  Aaron."    While  the  joint  prayers  of  priest  and 


THE   ANGEL    AND    ZACHARIAS.  255 

people  were  thus  oflered  up  with  the  blood  of  sprink- 
ling-, and  the  sweet  odors  of  holy  incense,  an  angel 
suddenly  appeared  to  Zacharias  as  he  was  ministering 
in  the  house  of  God,  where  these  blessed  spirits  delight 
to  resort,  as  a  resemblance  of  those  happy  mansions 
whence  they  descend. 

Twice  in  every  day  the  law  commanded  the  priests 
to  offer  incense  to  Jehovah.  The  prayers  of  the  chris- 
tian should  ascend  in  like  manner,  with  every  rising  and 
setting  sun,  to  that  gracious  Being  who  maketh  the 
outgoings  of  the  morning  and  of  the  evening  to  praise 
him.  The  elevation  of  our  hearts  should  be  perpetual; 
but  if,  at  least  twice  in  the  day,  we  present  not  our 
solemn  addresses  to  our  God,  we  declare  (as  far  as  ac- 
tions can  speak)  that  the  Gospel  of  Christ  requires  less 
scrupulous  observance  than  the  law  of  Moses. 

While  the  people  are  praying,  the  priest  offers  in- 
cense :  the  angel  of  the  Lord  comes  down,  to  signify 
the  divine  acceptance  of  both  these  oblations.  Long 
had  God  withdrawn  from  Judah  these  visions  and  reve- 
lations from  above — now,  on  the  approach  of  the  Savior, 
he  visits  mankind  with  his  angels  before  he  speaks  to 
them  by  his  Son.  Always  do  these  blessed  spirits  en- 
camp round  about  us — they  are  equally  present  when 
they  are  invisible.  But  it  was  the  will  of  God  to  dis- 
tinguish, by  miraculous  exertions  of  his  power,  the  birth 
of  him  who  should  proclaim  the  Redeemer.  He  would 
give  strength  and  dignity  to  that  voice  which  should 
precede  the  coming  of  his  ever-blessed  Son  ;  he  would 
demonstrate  to  the  world,  that  the  fore-runner  of  the 
Messiah  should  himself  be  conceived  through  the  mi- 
raculous power  of  that  God  whose  advent  he  announc- 
ed to  mankind. 

Zacharias,  who  had  so  long  lived  and  served  in  the 
presence  of  God,  was  overwhelmed  with  fear  at  the 
sight  of  his  angel.    In  vain  may  we  seek  for  perfection, 


256  hall's  scripture  histoey. 

even  in  the  best  of  men.  The  weakness  of  human  nature 
is  overpowered  by  celestial  glory — and  man,  conscious 
of  having  offended  against  his  Creator,  naturally  trem- 
bles at  a  messenger  from  heaven.  But  while  the  holy 
priest  was  alarmed  at  the  approach  of  his  fellow-ser- 
vant, the  good  angel  is  anxious  to  remove  his  terror 
with  words  of  comfort  and  encouragement — "  Fear  not, 
Zacharias  ;  thy  prayer  is  heard." 

Often  had  the  holy  man  prayed  for  the  redemption  of 
Israel ;  his  faith  and  piety  are  now  rewarded  by  his 
being  made,  in  so  wonderful  a  manner,  the  father  of 
one  who  should  "go  before  the  face  of  the  Lord  to 
prepare  his  ways."  The  priest  was  anxious  for  the  wel- 
fare of  the  church  ;  and  the  man  was  blessed  in  his  fa- 
mily. He  sought  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righ- 
^ousness;  and  he  heard  of  joy  and  gladness  when  the 
gift  he  had  so  long  solicited  for  himself  was  added 
thereunto.  The  promise  of  a  son,  and  such  a  son;  that 
his  birth  should  be  the  subject  of  general  joy;  that  he 
should  be  great  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord  ;  consecrated 
to  heaven  ;  filled  with  the  Spirit ;  beneficial  to  his  coun- 
trymen J  the  immediate  herald  of  the  Prince  of  Peace ; 
intelligence  of  so  stupendous  a  nature  could  not  fail  to 
overpower  the  heart  with  ecstasy  of  joy,  and  to  take 
away  that  tongue  with  amazement,  which  was  afterwards 
lost  by  incredulity. 

The  extent  and  greatness  of  the  promised  blessing 
seem  for  a  while  to  have  suspended  belief.  Zacharias 
dwells  on  the  difficulty,  the  utter  improbability  of  the 
event  foretold — the  supernatural  tidings  astonish  his 
heart,  and  he  distrusts  the  power  and  the  truth  of  God. 
*'  Whereby  shall  I  know  this  1  for  1  am  an  old  man,  and 
my  wife  well  stricken  in  years."  If  the  natural  man  too 
presumptuously  encroach  on  spiritual  things,  he  is  in 
danger  of  being  taken  captive  by  infidelity.  We  must 
be  assured  that  God  is  able  to  do  that  which  we  cannot 


THE    ANGEL    AND    ZACHARIAS.  257 

comprehend — we  must  behold  with  the  eye  of  faith  that 
light  which  cannot  be  viewed  by  mortal  perception. 
How  different  from  the  conduct  of  Zacharias  was  that 
of  his  father  Abraham,  "  who,  against  hope,  believed  in 
hope,  that  he  might  become  the  father  of  many  nations, 
according  to  that  which  was  spoken  !  He  staggered  not 
at  the  promise  of  God  through  unbelief;  but  was  strong 
in  the  faith,  giving  glory  to  God,  being  ftilly  persuaded 
that  what  he  had  promised  he  was  able  also  to  perform." 
Zacharias  demands  a  sign — a  sign  is  granted  in  punish- 
ment of  his  unbelief.  The  powers  of  that  tongue,  which, 
instead  of  uttering  praises,  expressed  only  doubts,  are 
taken  from  him — and  a  long  silence  is  imposed  as  a 
penalty  for  his  abuse  of  speech. 

Zacharias  tarried  in  the  temple  till  the  impatience  of 
the  people  was  converted  into  amazement — at  last  he 
comes  forth,  pale,  speechless,  astonishing  them  more 
by  his  presence  than  his  delay.  The  multitude  would 
not  depart  till  he  returned  to  bless  them ;  now  he 
beckons  to  them,  and  remains  silent.  He  gives  them  to 
understand  by  signs  that  God  was  preparing  salvation 
for  his  church.  His  hand  speaks  what  his  lips  cannot 
utter.  But  when  the  wonderful  child  was  actually  born, 
who  had  been  thus  miraculously  promised,  then  the 
mouth  of  the  father  was  opened,  and  (to  show  us  the 
proper  employment  of  the  tongue  when  heaven  grants 
the  use  of  it)  he  spake  and  praised  God.  Faith  restored 
what  incredulity  had  taken  away.  And  his  heart  having 
been  prepared  by  silence  and  retirement  for  the  recep- 
tion of  celestial  influences,  he  was  filled  with  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  ascribed  blessing  to  the  Lord  God  of  Israel, 
'*  who  had  visited  and  redeemed  his  people." 


258  hall's  scripture  history. 

54.— THE  ANNUNCIATION  OF  CHRIST. 

How  is  the  morning-star,  which  precedes  the  perfect 
day,  eclipsed  by  the  brightness  of  His  rising  who  should 
be  an  everlasting  light  to  his  people  !  How  is  the  sense 
of  all  other  mercies  overwhelmed  by  that  grateful  trans- 
port wherewith  we  contemplate  the  incarnation  of  the 
Son  of  God ! 

Never  was  the  Holy  Spirit  so  minutely  accurate  in 
any  description  as  in  that  which  concerns  the  appear- 
ance of  the  Messiah  upon  earth.  It  was  fit  that  no  cir- 
cumstance should  be  omitted  in  the  narrative  of  that 
event  whereon  depend  the  faith  and  salvation  of  the 
world.  The  number  of  the  month,  the  name  of  the  an- 
gel, the  place,  the  person  to  whom  he  was  sent  with 
joyful  tidings,  the  very  words  of  that  message  he  was 
commissioned  to  reveal,  all  are  faithfully  recorded. 
From  her  state  of  darkness  and  sorrow  the  church  is 
called  on  to  behold  her  Redeemer  coming  to  impart 
new  life  to  mankind,  and  to  enlighten  the  world  with 
his  glory.  The  messenger  of  this  salvation  was  an  arch- 
angel. Heaven  rejoiced  and  the  earth  was  glad  when 
God  spake  comfort  to  his  people.  No  greater  honor 
could  be  conferred  on  an  immortal  spirit  than  was  con- 
sequent on  an  embassy  like  this. 

"Hail,  thou  that  art  highly  favored!  the  Lord  is  with 
thee;  blessed  art  thou  among  women."  An  evil  angel 
was  the  author  of  our  fall — a  good  angel  is  the  herald 
of  our  deliverance.  No  power  but  that  of  God  could 
accomplish  this  work  of  mercy  j  but  the  inhabitants  of 
heaven  triumph  in  its  completion,  and  increase  their 
own  felicity  by  bringing  news  of  ours.  Joyfully  did 
this  blessed  spirit  announce  to  the  virgin  the  approach 
of  redemption.  The  first  preacher  of  the  Gospel  was  an 
angel.  How  glorious  the  office  of  proclaiming  salva- 
tion from  sin  and  death ! 


THE    ANNUNCIATION.  259 

Whither  is  the  celestial  messenger  sent  by  God  but 
to  the  obscure  and  despised  Galilee!  a  region  which 
the  Jews  themselves  held  in  such  contempt  as  to  deem 
it  excluded  from  the  benefits  and  from  the  privileges 
of  their  nation — "Out  of  Galilee  ariselh  no  prophet." 
Thou  seest  not,  O  Lord,  as  man  seeth  ;  neither  pride 
nor  prejudice  can  stop  the  progress  of  thy  mercy — 
where  thou  wilt  bless,  they  cannot  reverse  it.  To  that 
country  whence  no  prophet  is  said  to  come  forth,  an 
angel  is  commissioned  to  descend.  In  a  land  thus  ne- 
glected, thus  stigmatized,  the  Lord  of  prophets  and  of 
angels  is  conceived,  and  takes  up  his  abode.  It  is  the 
person  who  gives  honor  to  the  place,  not  the  place  to 
the  person — the  presence  of  God  constitutes  heaven — 
the  incarnation  of  Christ  causes  Nazareth  itself  to  ex- 
ceed the  haughty  Jerusalem  in  glory. 

Who  shall  presume  to  dictate  to  the  Almighty  in 
what  manner  he  should  bestow  those  distinctions 
which  alone  are  of  intrinsic  value  1  He  seeks  out  the 
poor,  the  meek,  the  despised,  as  objects  of  his  peculiar 
favor — the  cottages  of  Galilee  are  more  precious  in  his 
sight  than  the  palaces  of  Sion.  Why  then  should  we 
be  enslaved  by  vanity  and  ambition,  when  we  see  their 
dearest  gifts  so  lightly  esteemed  in  the  presence  of  God  1 

The  angel  approaches  the  humble  virgin  with  salu- 
iation,  not  with  prayer.  The  appearance  of  the  angel, 
accompanied  with  celestial  splendor  and  radiance,  im- 
pressed her  mind  with  awe,  notwithstanding  the  benig- 
nity of  his  address.  If  Zacharias  himself  was  filled  with 
consternation  at  such  a  vision,  we  cannot  imagine  that 
Mary  could  be  altogether  free  from  astonishment  and 
fear.  But  the  troubles  of  holy  minds  do  not  fail  to  ter- 
minate in  comfort.  The  design  of  the  message  was  to 
impart  joy  and  not  terror.  Anxiety  disquiets  the  soul, 
and  for  the  time  makes  it  unfit  to  receive  communica- 
tions from  above.    Soon  are  these  troublesome  mists 


260  hall's    SCRIPTtRE   HISTORY. 

of  apprehension  done  away — the  beams  of  heavenly 
comfort  shine  on  her  who  is  thus  highly  distinguished. 
"  Fear  not,  Mary  ;  for  thou  hast  found  favor  with 
God."  Let  those  tremble  who  have  reason  to  expect 
the  displeasure  of  heaven — thy  happy  state  calls  for 
confidence,  and  that  confidence  for  joy.  The  High  and 
Lofty  One  who  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose  name  is  Holy, 
will  speak  peace  to  thine  heart  and  revive  thine  humble 
spirit. 

What  can  we  fear  if  we  are  favored  by  his  almighty 
power  to  whom  all  things  in  heaven  and  in  earth,  and 
under  the  earth,  do  obeisance  1  The  dangers  most 
alarming  to  us  proceed  from  the  temptations  of  the 
powers  of  darkness,  not  from  the  unexpected  presence 
of  the  children  of  light.  Yet  even  these  assaults 
of  our  spiritual  adversaries  would  be  less  formidable 
if  we  kept  in  view  the  terms  of  our  high  calling 
of  God  in  Christ  Jesus.  We  have  not  received  the 
spirit  of  bondage  unto  fear,  but  we  have  received  the 
spirit  of  adoption,  whereby  we  cry,  "  Abba,  Father !" 
With  such  exceeding  great  and  precious  promises,  with 
this  hope  the  anchor  of  the  soul,  why  should  we  fear  in 
the  day  of  adversity  1  How  can  the  powers  of  hell  pre- 
vail against  us  while  the  Spirit  itself  beareth  witness 
with  our  spirit  that  we  are  the  children  of  God  1 

It  was  no  ordinary  favor  that  the  virgin  found  in 
heaven.  "  Thou  shalt  conceive,  and  bear  a  Son,  and 
shalt  call  his  name  Jesus.  He  shall  be  great,  and  shall 
be  called  the  Son  of  the  Highest:  and  the  Lord  God 
shall  give  unto  him  the  throne  of  his  father  David  j 
and  he  shall  reign  over  the  house  of  Jacob  for  ever, 
and  of  his  kingdom  there  shall  be  no  end." 

Awake,  awake ;  put  on  thy  strength,  O  Sion !  pnt  on 
thy  beautiful  garments,  O  city  of  our  God  !  for  the  Lord 
hath  mercy  on  his  people,  and  the  days  of  their  mourn- 
ings shall  be  ended.    The   blessing  announced   to  the 


THE    ANNUNCIATION.  261 

highly-favored  Mary  diffused  its  gracious  influence  on 
all  the  world.  The  honor  was  to  her  alone — the  salva- 
tion unbounded  and  universal.  The  promise  made  by 
the  angel  to  the  mother  of  our  Lord,  is  to  us,  to  our 
children,  to  all  that  are  afar  oft',  as  well  as  to  those  that 
ore  nigh.  There  is  no  regenerate  soul  in  which  thou, 
O  Savior,  art  not  formed  again.  Christ  dwelleth  in  our 
hearts  by  faith;  our  bodies  are  the  temples  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  O  God,  who  can  partake  of  thee  and  not  be 
happy?  Blessed  art  thou,  who  hast  thus  made  thy  ser- 
vants blessed ! 

The  blessed  virgin  having  heard  the  mysterious  mes- 
sage from  above,  inquires,'but  v/ith  awful  reverence,  as 
to  the  manner  wherein  the  promise  should  be  accom- 
plished. Her  desire  of  information  was  altogether  dif- 
ferent from  the  doubts  of  infidelity.  Her  words  are 
the  words  of  faith  mingled  with  admiration.  Not, 
"  Whence,  and  who  art  thoul  What  kingdom  is  this 
whereof  thou  makest  promise]  When  and  where  shall 
it  be  established  r'  But,  taking  for  granted  what  the 
unbelieving  heart  would  at  once  have  rejected,  she 
only  insists  on  that  which  necessarily  required  a  fur- 
ther intimation,  and  does  not  distrust,  but  demand. 

The  angel  answers  in  language  tending  to  inform 
her  judgment  and  support  her  faith — not  such  as  had 
in  view  the  solution  of  doubts  or  the  mere  satisfaction 
of  curiosity.  He  refers  the  pious  virgin  to  the  almighty 
power  of  Jehovah.  It  is  enough  for  us  to  be  assured 
who  is  the  Author  of  our  salvation  ;  we  are  aware  that 
the  means  whereby  it  was  accomplished  ought  not  to 
be  too  presumptuously  investigated.  O  Lord,  we  are 
content  to  know  in  part,  till  the  day  of  perfection  shall 
come,  when  that  which  is  in  part  shall  be  done  away. 
Why  should  we  seek  for  other  elucidation  where  the 
subject  is  involved  in  awful  obscurity  1  O  let  us  not 
break   through   to    gaze — let    us  keep    it  ever  in   our 


262  hall's  scripture  history. 

hearts  tlial  the  place  Avheroon  we  stand  is  holy  ground. 
It  is  for  none  but  the  Almighty  to  know  that  which 
more  immediately  concerns  himself.  He  hath  taught 
his  creatures  all  that  is  necessary  for  their  salvation. 
The  secret  things  belong  to  God — the  things  which  are 
revealed,  to  us. 

We  hear  of  no  more  interrogations  on  the  part  of  the 
blessed  virgin.  A  devout  and  humble  heart,  when  it  un- 
derstands the  good  pleasure  of  God,  argues  no  more, 
but  rests  in  quiet  expectation — "  Behold  the  handmaid 
of  the  Lord — be  it  unto  me  according  to  thy  word." 
There  is  not  a  more  exalted  proof  of  our  love  to  God 
than  is  sho\vn  when  we  submit  all  the  faculties  of  our 
souls  to  him,  and  follow  where  he  is  pleased  to  lead 
the  way.  When  we  are  made  acquainted  wilh  his  holy 
word,  disputes  and  cavils  arise  only  from  infidelity. 
Great  is  the  mystery  of  godliness — God  was  manifest 
in  the  flesh.  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save 
sinners.  O  Lord,  thou  art  faithful,  thou  art  powerful — 
it  is  enough  that  thou  hast  said  it.  In  the  humility  of 
our  obedience  we  resign  ourselves  to  thee — ''Behold 
the  servants  of  the  Lord — be  it  unto  us  according  to 
thy  word." 


55.— THE  BIRTH  OF  CHRIST. 

Now  is  the  christian  church  arrayed  in  her  festal  gar- 
ments;  now  are  the  high  praises  of  God  more  especially 
in  the  mouths  of  his  people.  We  contemplate  mercies 
whereby  light  Is  given  to  a  world  that  sat  in  darkness — 
we  record  benefits  worthy  of  being  revealed  by  an 
angel  and  celebrated  by.  the  assembled  choir  of  heaven. 


THE    BIRTir    OF    CHRIST.  263 

Cry  out  and  shout,  0  city  of  Sion,  for  great  is  the  Holy 
One  of  Israel  in  the  midst  of  thee.  Unto  us  a  Child  is 
born,  unto  us  a  Son  is  given  ;  and  the  governnment  shall 
be  upon  his  shoulder — and  his  name  shall  be  called, 
Wonderful,  Counsellor,  the  Mighty  God,  the  Everlasting 
Father,  the  Prince  of  Peace. 

No  sooner  had  the  messenger  from  heaven  delivered 
his  embassy  to  the  mother  of  our  Lord,  than  she  arose 
in  haste  and  went  into  the  hill-country  of  Judea.  She 
had  been  told  by  the  angel  of  those  wonders  of  divine 
power  and  mercy  displayed  towards  the  hnppy  Eliza- 
beth ;  whose  unexpected  fruitfulness,  in  her  old  age, 
was  a  token  of  other  and  greater  miracles  of  omnipo- 
tence. The  blessed  virgin  is  anxious  to  visit  her  vene- 
rable friend- — nothing  shall  delay  that  meeting,  which 
can  only  be  paralleled  by  the  felicitations  of  glorified 
spirits  in  the  kingdom  of  God.  Elizabeth,  in  ecstasies  of 
joy,  proclaims  her  guest  to  be  blessed  among  women — 
applauds  her  faith — confirms  her  hope — declares  her- 
self unworthy  of  a  privilege  so  distinguished  as  to  re- 
ceive under  her  roof  the  mother  of  her  Lord.  Mary,  in 
humble  but  fervent  gratitude,  acknowledges  the  bounty 
of  heaven  ;  her  soul  doth  magnify  the  Lord  ;  her  spirit 
rejoiceth  in  God  her  Savior.  "Break  forth  into  joy, 
sing  together,  for  the  Lord  hath  comforted  his  people  j 
he  hath  redeemed  Jerusalem.  Let  us  be  glad,  and  shout 
for  joy;  the  winter  is  past;  the  storms  of  affliction  are 
over  and  gone.  Discord  is  vanished  away  and  melted 
into  harmony.  He  that  is  mighty  hath  done  great  things, 
and  holy  is  his  name." 

At  length  an  edict  of  Augustus  summons  Mary  to  the 
city  of  David.  The  providence  of  God  directs  the  pub- 
lic actions  of  men  to  the  accomplishment  of  his  sacred 
purpose.  The  charge  was  universal,  to  innumerable  sub- 
jects through  all  the  Roman  empire.  By  means  of  this 
taxation  Christ  shall  be  born  in  Bethlehem.    Ccesar  had 


no  views  but  for  his  own  advantage — God  meant  to 
fulfil  his  prophecies ;  and  so  to  fulril  ihem,  that  they 
who  were  most  nearly  concerned  should  read  his  will 
in  the  events  themselves,  not  in  the  steps  which  led 
to  them. 

What  a  testimony  is  borne  to  the  Savior  of  mankind 
by  the  government  and  by  the  decree  of  Augustus! 
Now  the  whole  world  was  at  rest.  All  was  quiet  under 
the  sceptre  which  made  preparation  for  the  Prince  of 
Peace.  But  this  sceptre  was  departed  from  Judah — 
Herod,  Cyrenius,  Augustus,  all  were  aliens.  It  was  time 
for  Shiloh  (Gen.  49  :  10)  to  come.  A  tribute  is  imposed 
upon  the  people  of  God;  the  very  act  of  bondage  is  the 
signal  of  approaching  liberty.  At  the  moment  when  Sion 
said,  ''  The  Lord  hath  forsaken  me,  and  my  God  hath 
forgotten  me,"  she  is  blessed  by  the  appearance  of  her 
Redeemer — when  she  is  most  oppressed  by  foreign  sove- 
reignty God  sends  her  a  King  of  her  own,  before  whose 
throne  Ceesar  himself  shall  hereafter  appear  in  humble 
subjection ! 

Whither  must  Joseph  and  Mary  come  to  be  taxed  but 
to  Bethlehem  1  ^1  he  very  place  proved  their  descent. 
He  who  should  succeed  David  in  his  throne  must  also 
succeed  liim  in  the  place  of  his  birth.  So  clearly  was 
Bethlehem  described  by  the  prophets  as  the  scene  where 
this  great  event  should  happen,  that  the  very  priests  and 
scribes  could  point  it  out  to  Herod  as  the  city  wherein 
the  King-  of  the  Jews  should  be  born. 

Hither  the  blessed  Mary  was  called  on  by  the  edict 
of  Augustus  to  repair  when  the  time  of  her  delivery  was 
at  hand.  Joseph,  who  had  been  taught  by  God  to  lovo 
and  honor  her,  was  doubtless  unwilling  to  expose  her  to 
so  manifest  a  hazard  ;  but  the  charge  was  peremptory, 
the  obedience  exemplary.  That  God  by  whom  kings 
reign  teaches  us,  by  example  as  well  as  precept,  to  pay 
allegiance  to  lawful  authority. 


THE    BIRTH    OF    CHRIST.  265 

The  difficulties  of  the  journey  are  surmounted — but 
the  daughter  of  David  finds  no  compassionate  shelter, 
no  kind  reception  in  the  city  of  her  royal  ancestor. 
Little  did  the  inhabitants  of  Bethlehem  imagine  what 
a  guest  they  refused.  How  gladly  would  they  otherwise 
have  opened  their  doors  to  him,  through  whose  merits 
and  intercession  alone  the  kingdom  of  heaven  will  be 
opened  to  all  believers!  Now  in  their  inhospitality  they 
have  their  punishment.  They  have  lost  that  honor  and 
happiness  which  they  might  have  enjoyed,  and  which 
would  have  far  exceeded  all  earthly  glories.  But  why 
do  we  reproach  their  ignorance,  and  forget  our  own  in- 
sensibility 1  If  we  suffer  worldly  thoughts  and  sensual 
desires  to  exclude  Christ  from  our  souls,  how  much 
greater  is  our  guilt,  how  much  deeper  our  ingratitude  ! 

O  God,  in  what  language  shall  we  express  our  w^on- 
der  at  this  humility  1  Thou,  whom  the  heaven  of  hea- 
vens cannot  contain,  when  thou  wouldst  visit  this  world 
of  thine,  hast  not  where  to  lay  thine  head.  Thou,  at 
whose  disposal  are  the  many  mansions  of  thy  Father's 
house,  art  refused  admittance  into  the  meanest  cottage 
of  Bethlehem.  Thou  xiamest  to  thine  own,  and  thine 
own  received  thee  not.  Hadst  thou  assumed  the  form 
of  some  mighty  potentate — hadst  thou  taken  to  thyself 
an  abundant  portion  of  those  gifts  which  mortals  hold 
desirable,  even  then  thy  self-abasement  would  have  been 
worthy  of  our  grateful  adoration;  but  when  thou  art 
content  to  appear  in  the  form  of  a  servant,  and  when  a 
manger  is  the  scene  of  thine  humble  birth,  how  great, 
how  unutterable  is  thy  condescension !  Didst  thou  not, 
blessed  Lord,  didst  thou  not  thus  debase  thyself  to 
teach  us  lov»'liness  of  mind,  to  sanctify  poverty,  to 
quench  the  spirit  of  arrogance  in  our  hearts,  casting 
down  imaginations  and  every  high  thing  which  exalteth 
itself  against  thee,  and  bringing  into  captivity  every 
thought  to  thine  obedience  1 

Script  Hist.  12 


266  hall's  scripture  history. 

The  kings  of  the  earth  are  at  rest,  and  are  not  sum- 
moned to  attend  on  him  to  whom  they  owe  their  great- 
ness J  but  the  Messiah  is  no  sooner  born,  than  the  glory 
of  the  Lord  shines  with  brightness  inexpressible  on  a 
company  of  shepherds  keeping  watch  by  night  over 
their  flocks  near  Bethlehem. 

It  was  no  new  thing  for  manifestations  from  heaven 
to  be  vouchsafed  to  persons  employed  in  the  pastoral 
life.  Among  those  who  were  thus  distinguished  by  the 
Divine  favor,  we  find  the  holy  patriarch  Jacob,  Moses 
the  legislator,  and  David  the  king  of  Israel.  These,  and 
many  others,  while  attending  on  their  flocks,  had  visions 
and  revelations  from  the  Almighty — with  these  he  often 
deigned  to  hold  converse  in  their  solitudes.  And  now 
the  welcome  message  of  redemption  is  imparted  by  the 
ministration  of  angels  to  a  band  of  shepherds  employed 
in  their  peaceful  and  innocent  occupation.  Never  have 
we  more  reason  to  expect  a  blessing  from  above,  than 
while  we  are  engaged  in  our  respective  callings  with 
cheerful  diligence,  relying  on  the  good  providence  of 
God.  While  a  sacred  terror  took  possession  of  the  souls 
of  these  Israelites,  a  multitude  of  the  heavenly  host 
joined  in  the  song  of  rapture  and  hailed  the  propitious 
arrival  of  the  Son  of  God. 

How  doth  the  Divine  wisdom  make  choice  of  the 
weak  to  confound  the  mighty  !  At  midnight,  in  the 
fields,  to  obscure  and  lowly  persons,  the  light  of  re- 
demption is  made  manifest  by  the  choir  of  heaven.  No 
station  is  so  mean  as  to  exclude  us  from  the  Divine  fa- 
vor J  the  Lord  of  glory  is  an  inmate  of  the  humble 
soul ;  he  putteth  down  the  mighty  from  their  seat,  and 
exalteth  them  of  low  degree. 

"  Glory  be  to  God  on  high,  and  on  earth  peace,  good 
will  towards  men."  O  ye  blessed  angels,  the  church  of 
God  unites  her  praises  with  yours  j  a  thankful  world,  at 
the  feet  of  its  Deliverer,  pours  forth  its  eflusions  of  joy 


THE  SAGES  AND  THE  STAR.  267 

and  welcomes  the  hour  of  liberty.  Our  soul  is  escaped 
as  a  bird  out  of  the  snare  of  the  fowler  ;  and  now,  in- 
stead of  drooping  and  pining  away  in  miserable  bond- 
age, it  flies  on  the  wings  of  rapture,  and  sings  its  song 
of  praise  at  the  gates  of  heaven — celebrating  a  day  yet 
more  glorious  than  that  whereon  the  morning  stars  first 
sang  together  and  all  the  sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy. 

No  sooner  do  the  shepherds  hear  tidings  of  a  Savior, 
than  they  repair  with  haste  to  Bethlehem — regardless 
of  their  flocks,  they  esteem  all  things  as  of  no  value 
which  can  detain  them  from  that  blissful  sight.  It  is  not 
possible  that  a  faithful  heart  should  hear  of  Christ  and 
not  desire  earnestly  to  approach  and  to  enjoy  him. 
Where  art  thou  to  be  found,  O  Lord,  but  in  thine  house, 
thy  word,  thy  ordinances  1  There  thou  seekest  for  us, 
there  thou  callest  us  to  thyself.  0  let  us  make  speed 
to  find  thee,  and  let  us  by  faith  behold  the  glory  that  is 
revealed.  In  thy  light  shall  we  see  light — cast  us  not 
away  from  thy  presence— take  not  thine  Holy  Spirit 
from  us. 

"  This  is  a  faithful  saying,  and  worthy  of  all  accepta- 
tion, That  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners. ^^ 


56.-.THE  SAGES  AND  THE  STAR. 

The  shepherds,  full  of  joy  and  wonder,  behold  the 
Redeemer  of  mankind  in  his  state  of  great  humility — 
they  depart,  and  publish  in  the  adjacent  country  what 
they  had  seen  and  heard.  Their  narrative  occasions  a 
temporary  amazement — but  soon  the  sound  dies  away 
and  sinks  into  oblivion.  No  inhabitant  of  Bethlehem  is 
awakened  to  the  duties  of  hospitality — still  does  HE  lie 


258  hall's  scripture  history. 

in  a  manger  whom  the  angels  left  their  thrones  to  pro- 
claim, whom  the  sages  travelled  from  the  east  to  wor- 
ship, whom  a  bright  star  notified  to  the  world  as  claim- 
ing the  adoration  of  heaven  and  earth.  The  Gentiles, 
O  Savior,  came  to  thy  light,  they  came  to  the  brightness 
of  thy  rising.  This  first  event  foretold  those  which 
should  follow:  the  heathen  come  from  far  to  adore  the 
Messiah,  while  the  Jews  reject  him. 

Studious  in  their  researches  after  truth,  the  wise  men 
were  selected  by  God  to  do  honor  to  the  manifestation 
of  his  Son.  Human  learning,  well  improved,  makes  us 
capable  of  divine.  There  is  no  knowledge,  whereof  God 
is  not  the  author — he  would  never  have  bestowed  on 
his  creatures  a  gift  which  had  a  tendency  to  estrange 
them  from  himself.  What  can  be  more  groundless  than 
the  assertion,  that  an  inquiry  into  the  laws  of  nature 
tends  to  make  us  atheists  1  No  man  is  so  qualified  to  see 
the  star  of  Christ  as  a  diligent  proficient  in  philosophy 

The  miraculous  light  which  conducted  the  sages  to 
Judea  was  visible  to  others — they  only  followed  it  who 
knew  that  it  could  not  be  accounted  for  on  natural  prin- 
ciples. He  is  truly  wise  whose  wisdom  tends  to  salva- 
tion. Had  these  men  been  acquainted  with  all  the  lumi- 
naries of  heaven  and  remained  ignorant  of  this  star, 
they  would  have  been  destitute  of  spiritual  knowledge — 
the  light  that  was  in  them  would  have  been  darkness. 
Learning,  when  separated  from  Christianity,  is  but  a 
false  and  treacherous  phantom,  which  seduces  mankind 
to  the  paths  of  error  and  destruction. 

How  does  the  mercy  of  God  proportion  his  grace  to 
the  capacity  and  disposition  of  its  objects !  The  angels 
direct  the  shepherds — the  star  guides  the  sages  :  their 
skill  in  astronomy  had  taught  them  that  the  form,  the 
brightness,  the  motion  of  this  luminous  orb  was  every 
way  miraculous.  The  superstitious  might  well  conjec- 
ture that   some   strange    news  was   portended   to  the 


THE  SAGES  AND  THE  STAR.  2G9 

world — but  that  this  star  announced  the  birth  of  the 
Messiah,  was  a  truth  which  needed  another  light — had 
it  not  been  accompanied  by  revelation  from  God,  it 
would  have  led  the  wise  men  only  into  fruitless  wonder. 

He  who  taught  Balaam  that  a  star  should  arise  out  of 
Jacob,  enlightened  the  heart  of  these  sages  with  divine 
illumination.  The  Spirit  of  God  knows  no  partiality,  no 
restriction.  Man}?-  shall  come  from  the  east  and  from 
the  west,  and  shall  sit  down  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
The  Almighty  confined  not  his  favors  to  Jerusalem — 
the  sound  went  forth  into  all  the  world — not  only  Jews, 
but  Gentiles  were  chosen  to  be  the  instruments  of  his 
glory.  ^ 

Whither  should  the  wise  men  repair  but  to  Jerusa- 
lem 1  Where  should  they  hope  to  hear  of  the  new  King 
but  in  the  metropolis  of  the  kingdom  X  The  star  only 
conducted  them  to  Judea — the  rest  is  left  to  their  in- 
quiry. Their  Vv?isdom  could  not  teach  them  to  imagine 
that  a  prince  could  be  born  whom  heaven  itself  an- 
nounced to  the  world,  and  that  his  own  subjects  could 
be  ignorant  of  it — not  deeming  the  question  difficult  to 
be  answered,  they  demand,  ''  Where  is  he  that  is  born 
King  of  the  Jews  V 

Had  these  sages  .met  with  the  shepherds  near  Bethle- 
hem, they  had  received  that  intelligence  of  Christ,  which 
they  sought  in  vain  at  Jerusalem.  The  glad  tidings  of 
salvation  were  hidden  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and 
were  revealed  unto  babes.  Even  so.  Father,  for  so  it 
seemed  good  in  thy  sight.  Meanwhile  no  circumstance 
was  wanting  which  might  confirm  the  truth  of  the  Gos- 
pel, or  put  to  silence  the  arrogance  of  infidelity.  The 
chief  priests  and  scribes  attest  the  predicted  place  of 
our  Savior's  nativity.  If  the  star  had  led  the  wise  men 
at  once  to  Bethlehem,  the  learned  Jews  had  never 
searched  the  import  of  those  prophecies  which  led  at 
once  to  their  conviction. 


270  hall's  scripture  history. 

It  was  well  that  the  name  of  foreigners  could  plead 
in  excuse  for  those  who  sought  a  new  king  at  the  court 
of  Herod :  had  any  of  his  own  subjects  made  the  de- 
mand, the  offender  would  (no  doubt)  have  been  punish- 
ed with  death.  The  tyrant  would  not  have  aspired  to 
the  crown  of  Judea,  nor  pursued  such  indirect  measures 
to  obtain  it,  if  his  heart  had  not  been  enslaved  to  ambi- 
tion. With  what  terror  and  consternation  did  he  hear 
the  words  of  the  sages  1  His  long  residence  among  the 
Jews  had  made  him  familiar  with  those  many  and  con- 
fident reports  of  a  Deliverer  who  should  ere  long  arise 
out  of  Israel ;  now,  when  he  is  told  that  a  King  is  born, 
whose  coming  is  notified  by  a  star  from  heaven,  he  is 
struck  with  sudden  consternation.  Every  thing  alarms 
the  guilty — usurpation  is  always  full  of  jealousy  and 
torment. 

Why  art  thou  troubled,  O  Herod  ^  A  King  is  born, 
but  a  King  whose  government  concurs  with  lawful  sove- 
reignty— a  Prince,  by  whom  righteous  kings  hold  their 
sceptres,  not  lose  them.  The  wise  men  speak  of  a  king, 
the  star  tells  thee  he  is  heavenly — here  is  cause  of  secu- 
rity, not  of  fear.  If  men  could  know  how  much  delight 
is  afforded  by  the  presence  of  the  Redeemer,  he  would 
be  received  by  them,  not  with  apprehension,  but  with 
grateful  welcome. 

Herod  assembles  his  council,  and  demands  where 
Christ  shall  be  born.  The  miraculous  light  has  disap- 
peared— but  there  is  a  fixed  star,  shining  in  the  writings 
of  the  prophets,  which  sends  them  directly  to  Bethle- 
hem. As  yet  envy  and  prejudice  had  not  blinded  the 
eyes  and  perverted  the  hearts  of  the  Jewish  teachers — 
they  now  clearly  justify  that  Messiah  whom  they  after- 
wards condemn,  and,  by  thus  justifying  him,  condemn 
themselves  in  rejecting  him.  If  God  had  no  more  wit- 
ness than  from  his  enemies,  we  have  ground  enough  for 
our  faith. 


THE    SAGES    AND    THE    STAI^^  271 

Herod  feared,  but  dissembled  his  fear.  The  tyrant's 
pride  would  not  suffer  him  to  betray  his  terror  to  stran- 
gers— he  contents  himself  with  sending  the  sages  to 
Bethlehem  in  search  of  the  new-born  King.  How  easily 
might  the  cruelty  of  Herod  have  suborned  some  of  his 
bloody  minions  to  rid  him  of  all  apprehension  !  But  the 
good  providence  of  God  would  not  suffer  the  machina- 
tions of  evil  men  to  counteract  the  designs  of  his  hea- 
venly mercy.  The  kings  of  the  earth  stand  up,  and  the 
rulers  take  counsel  together,  against  the  anointed  of  the 
Lord  J  but  Jehovah  will  not  leave  him  in  their  hand. 

There  is  no  villany  which  cannot  mask  itself  under  a 
show  of  piety.  Herod  will  also  worship  the  babe  !  The 
courtesy  of  a  tyrant  is  death — never  does  a  hypocrite 
imagine  so  much  wickedness  as  when  he  speaks  the 
fairest.  The  wise  men  depart  full  of  expectation  and 
desire — they  depart,  but  unaccompanied.  Whether  im- 
peded by  distrust,  or  fear,  or  infidelity,  of  all  the  thou- 
sands of  Judah  no  individual  attempts  to  see  that  King 
whom  strangers  came  from  the  east  to  visit.  Yet  are 
not  these  resolute  sages  discouraged  ;  they  cheerfully 
pursue  their  journey  to  that  place  which  the  ancient 
light  of  prophecy  pointed  out.  And  now,  behold,  God 
bears  witness  to  them  from  heaven,  by  sending  again 
their  first  guide  to  direct  their  steps  towards  Bethlehem. 
What  joy  these  wise  men  conceived  Avhen  their  eyes 
beheld  the  reappearance  of  that  friendly  star,  they  only 
can  imagine  who,  after  a  long  and  grievous  night  of 
sorrov/,  have  experienced  the  loving-kindness  of  God 
shining  upon  their  souls.  If  with  obedience  and  con- 
stancy we  follow  his  commandments,  we  shall  not  want 
supplies  of  comfort.  If  we  forsake  not  our  God,  he 
will  look  down  upon  us,  and  bless  us,  and  show  us  the 
light  of  his  countenance,  and  be  merciful  unto  us. 

He  who  led  Israel  by  a  pillar  of  fire  to  the  land  of 
promise,  leads  the  sages  by  a  star  to  the  promised  ]\Ies- 


272  hall's  scripture  history. 

siah.  All  his  directions  partake  of  his  o^vn  Divine  nature. 
God  is  light,  and  in  him  is  no  darkness  at  all.  His  good- 
ness condescends  to  human  infirmity — his  knowledge 
vouchsafes  to  instruct  our  ignorance. 

When  the  wise  men  see  the  star  become  stationary, 
they  look  around  for  the  royal  palace  which  they  had 
so  long  and  anxiously  sought — they  scarcely  trust  the 
evidence  of  their  senses,  that  under  that  lowly  roof  they 
are  to  find  their  expected  King.  Yet  do  they  not  refuse 
to  enter.  They  approach,  and  behold  thee,  O  Savior, 
in  thy  state  of  meek  humility,  wrapped  in  swaddling- 
clothes,  lying  in  a  manger,  unattended  but  by  thy  blessed 
mother  and  her  betrothed  husband.  What  a  sight  was 
this,  after  all  the  glorious  promises  of  the  star,  after  all 
the  predictions  of  the  prophets,  after  all  the  magnificence 
of  their  expectation  ! 

Had  these  holy  men  been  weak  in  the  faith  they  had 
sought  elsewhere  for  their  King,  and  sought  in  vain. 
But  they  had  not  so  learned  Christ — no  sooner  do  they 
behold  the  heavenly  infant  than  they  fall  downi  and  wor- 
ship. They  behold  his  royalty,  though  afar  oif — a  royalty 
more  than  human,  the  glory  of  the  only  begotten  of  the 
Father,  full  of  gi*ace  and  truth.  Nor  are  they  contented 
to  hold  up  empty  hands  to  the  Redeemer ;  they  accom- 
pany their  adoration  with  gifts,  the  most  precious  pro- 
duce of  their  country.  Gold,  and  frankincense,  and 
myrrh  are  presented  to  Jesus,  in  humble  testimony  of 
his  supremacy. 

The  oblations  of  faith  and  piety  cannot  fail  of  finding 
acceptance  in  the  sight  of  our  heavenly  Father.  He  re- 
gards as  a  free-will  oftering  to  himself  the  tnbute  of  grate- 
ful love.  The  sacrifice  of  the  righteous  is  well-pleasing 
unto  God — how  much  more  when  he  bringeth  it  with  a 
willing  mind  ] 


THE    PURIFICATION.  273 


07.— THE    PURIFICATION. 

He  wlio  came  to  be  sin  for  us,  would  satisfy  the  law, 
that  he  might  take  away  our  uncleanncss,  that  righteous- 
ness might  be  imputed  to  us  also.  Though  he  were  ex- 
empt from  the  common  condition  of  our  birth,  he  conde- 
scended to  a  compliance  with  those  accustomed  rites 
which  implied  the  weakness  and  imperfection  of  human 
nature.  Not  a  day  is  changed,  cither  in  the  circumcision 
of  Christ  or  the  purification  of  Mary.  However  ill-adapt- 
ed was  the  scene  of  our  Lord's  birth  for  this  appointed  rit- 
ual, he  would  not  transgi-ess  the  institutions  once  delivered 
by  himself.  We  cannot  be  thine,  O  Lord,  if  our  souls  are 
uncircumcised — O  grant  that  we  may  be  partakei*s  of  thy 
holiness — cleanse  the  thoughts  of  our  hearts  by  the  inspi- 
ration of  thy  blessed  Spirit — that  we  may  perfectly  love 
thee,  and  worthily  magnify  thy  glorious  name  ! 

"When  the  angel  of  God  appeared  to  Joseph,  to  vindi- 
cate the  character  of  his  espoused  wife,  and  to  remove 
those  suspicions  which  had  agitated  his  mind,  he  told  the 
adopted  father  of  our  Lord  by  what  name  he  should  call 
the  heavenly  child.  *'  She  shall  bring  forth  a  Son,  and 
thou  shalt  call  his  name  Jesus — for  he  shall  save  his  peo- 
ple from  their  sins."  Already  had  instructions  to  the 
same  effect  been  given  to  Mary.  When  she  received  the 
glad  tidings  of  joy  and  salvation,  the  celestial  messenger 
declared  that  the  promised  Messiah  should  be  known  by 
a  name,  signifying  both  his  power  and  mercy — a  name  ex- 
pressive of  deliverance  vouchsafed  by  God  to  his  faithful 
people.  The  illustrious  successor  of  Moses,  the  great 
High-Priest  who  led  the  children  of  the  captivity  to  their 
much-loved  Jerusalem,  had  borne  the  same  ajipellation. 
Each  was  an  eminent  forerunner  of  our  Lord — each  was 
more  than  in  name  a  minister  of  deliverance.  The  one 
conducted  the  chosen  joeople  of  God  from  the  wilderness 
12* 


274  hall's  scripture  history. 

into  the  land  of  promise,  v/itli  victory,  and  glory,  and  joy 
— tlie  other  brought  them  once  more  from  their  misera- 
ble vassalage,  to  liberty  and  peace.  While  the  Author  of  a 
greater  salvation,  calling  us  out  of  the  desert  of  this  world, 
out  of  the  miserable  bondage  of  sin,  invites  us  to  the  man- 
sions of  eternal  ha2:)piness — to  that  Jerusalem,  which  be- 
ing above,  is  free — to  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  children 
of  God.  "  Therefore  hath  his  almighty  Father  highly  ex- 
alted him,  and  given  him  a  name  which  is  above  every 
name — that  at  the  name  of  Jesus  every  knee  should  bow, 
of  things  in  heaven,  and  things  in  earth,  and  things 
under  the  earth — and  that  every  tongue  should  confess 
that  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Lord,  to  the  glory  of  God  the 
Father." 

No  sooner  is  the  blessed  virgin  capable  of  undertaking 
the  journey,  than  she  repairs  from  Bethlehem  to  Jerusa- 
lem, to  perform  the  holy  rites  which  the  law  of  Moses  had 
appointed  for  herself  and  for  her  Son — to  purify  herself, 
to  present  her  first-born.  She  goes  not  to  her  own  house 
at  Nazareth,  she  hastens  to  the  temple  of  God.  If  puri- 
fying were  a  shadow,  thanksgiving  is  a  substance.  That 
mother,  who  (having  experienced  the  mercy  of  heaven  in 
the  hour  of  pain  and  danger)  refuses  to  offer  her  tribute 
of  cheering  praise,  partakes  neither  of  the  gratitude  nor 
the  devotion  of  Mary. 

The  rumor  of  a  King  newly  born  at  Bethlehem  was 
yet  recent  at  Jerusalem,  since  the  journey  of  the  eastern 
sages.  With  v/hat  joy  would  the  minions  of  Herod  have 
betrayed  him  to  their  master,  had  not  the  merciful  provi- 
dence of  God  shielded  him  from  discovery  !  With  what 
joy  would  they  have  proclaimed,  *'  Here  is  the  babe 
whom  the  star  announced,  whom  the  wise  men  sought, 
whom  the  angels  celebrated,  of  whom  the  shepherds  dis- 
coursed, whom  the  chief  priests  and  scribes  notified,  who 
is  already  the  rival  of  our  sovereign."  Yet  to  this  very 
Jerusalem,  which  had  been  troubled  at  the  news  of  his 


THE    PURIFICATIOxV.  275 

birth,  is  Christ  come — while  the  tyrant  who  sent  to  Beth- 
lehem to  seek  him  is  foiled  and  baffled  in  his  own  mise- 
rable policy.  God  saw  that  it  was  not  time  to  give  scope  to 
the  fuiy  of  the  ojopressor.  Surely  the  wrath  of  men  shall 
praise  thee,  O  Lord — the  rage  of  thine  adversaries  shall 
conduce  to  their  shame  and  thy  glory. 

On  the  day  appointed  by  the  law  the  blessed  virgin 
presents  herself  and  her  infant  in  the  temple.  She  urges 
not  her  high  privilege,  but  dutifully  complies  with  those 
ordinances  which  could  in  no  case  be  ncQ:lected  without 
offence  or  danger — like  the  mother  of  him  whom  it  be- 
hoved to  fulfil  all  righteousness — like  the  mother  of  him, 
who,  though  he  knew  thp  children  free,  would  yet  him- 
self pay  tribute  to  Caesar. 

The  service  required  by  God  is  regulated  by  our  abil- 
ity. Every  mother  among  the  Jews  was  not  able  to  af- 
ford a  lamb  for  a  burnt-ofiering :  a  pair  of  turtle  doves, 
or  young  pigeons  was  an  oblation  easy  to  be  procured 
by  those  in  the  meanest  state.  These  did  the  Lord  of 
heaven  and  earth  prescribe  in  his  law — accepting  them  no 
loss  graciously  than  the  cattle  upon  a  thousand  hills.  He 
seeks  some  testimony  of  gi-ateful  devotion  ;  but  he  wishes 
to  proportion  it  to  the  station  and  power  of  the  worshij^- 
per.  The  smallest  offering  of  an  humble  and  thankful 
heart  is  precious  in  his  sight — a  mite  from  the  poor 
widow  is  more  dear  to  him  than  all  the  talents  of  the 
wealthy. 

The  blessed  virgin  comes  in  the  form  of  poverty  before 
her  God — the  offering  itself  spake  her  penury.  How  can 
we  despise  a  fellow-christian  for  the  lowliness  of  his  con- 
dition, when  we  reflect  that  the  mother  of  our  Lord  was 
unal)le  to  provide  a  lamb  for  her  purification  ?  O  Mary, 
thy  Son,  for  whom  thou  broughtest  that  dove  to  be  sacri- 
ficed,  was  that    sacrifice    which    the    dove    represented. 

There  was  nothing  in  him  but  perfection  of  innocence  ; 
and  by  the  oblation  of  him  the  children  of  men  are  puri- 


276  hall's      SCRirTURE    HISTORY. 

ijed,  and  made  lioly.  Since  in  ourselves  we  cannot  be  in- 
nocent, liappy  are  we  that  the  spotless  victim  is  sacrificed 
for  us,  to  make  us  innocent  in  Him  ! 

Not  only  to  offer  the  sacrifice  of  purification  for  herself, 
but  to  present  the  child  Jesus  to  his  heavenly  Father,  did 
the  virgin  approach  the  temple.  Every  first-bom  son,  by 
a  general  consecration,  was  holy  unto  the  Lord.  Since 
that  display  of  almighty  power  and  mercy  which  brought 
death  to  Egypt  and  life  to  Israel,  God  had  claimed  this 
service  as  due  unto  himself  The  Lora  of  all  creatures 
had  an  unlimited  title  to  his  own  ;  and  the  obedience  of 
Christ  would  leave  nothing  unaccomplished  which  eter- 
nal wisdom  had  enjoined.  But  when  God,  by  his  immedi- 
ate appointment,  chose  the  tribe  of  Levi  to  minister  unto 
himself,  the  first-born  of  the  other  tribes  (instead  of  being 
immediately  devoted  to  the  ministry)  were  merely  pre* 
sented  in  the  temple,  and  afterwards  restored  to  their  pa- 
rents. Nor  did  this  law  regard  only  the  children  of  men 
— the  first  male  of  every  clean  beast  was  set  apart  for 
sacrifice ;  of  every  unclean,  exchanged  for  a  price.  The 
Divine  institution  conveyed  a  useful  lesson,  that  the  best 
of  God's  gifts  is  most  fit  to  be  consecrated  to  the  GiA-er. 
Every  thing  we  have  exceeds  our  deserts — how  much 
more,  if  we  think  any  thing  too  precious  for  Him '? 

God  would  not  leave  himself  without  witness.  Within 
those  sacred  walls  he  had  prepared  an  attestation  to  his 
blessed  Son.  There  the  devout  Anna  fastened  her  eyes 
on  the  hope  of  Israel — there  the  holy  Simeon,  who  had 
been  assured  that  he  should  not  taste  of  death  till  he  had 
seen  the  Messiah,  poured  forth  the  effusions  of  gi'ateful 
transport.  How  lovely  is  that  old  age  which  can  reflect 
on  the  past  without  remorse,  and  look  forward  to  the  fu- 
ture with  faith  and  hope  !  Go  to  thy  repose,  thou  faithful 
servant  of  thy  Master — thine  eyes  have  seen  his  salvation 
— let  thy  hoary  head  rest  in  peace,  in  humble  expectation 
of  its  crown  of  glory.    Again  shalt  thou  see  thy  Lord  and 


HEROD    AND    TUE    INFANTS.  277 

Savior — thou  shall  see  him  again — thine  heart  shall  re- 
joice— never  more  shall  that  joy  be  taken  away  from 
thee. 

How  glorious  did  the  temple  now  appear!  This  was 
the  hour,  this  was  the  guest,  by  reason  of  whom  the  glory 
of  the  second  house  should  exceed  that  of  the  first.  That 
Desire  of  all  nations,  the  Lord,  who  was  sought  by  faith 
and  hope,  was  now  in  the  hallowed  abode  consecrated  to 
himself  There  had  he  long  dwelt,  in  his  spiritual  and  in 
his  typical  presence.  Nothing  was  either  placed  or  done 
within  those  walls  which  had  not  a  reference  to,  or  a  re- 
semblance of  him — and  now  the  substance  of  these  sha- 
dows is  come,  and  presejits  himself  in  that  place  where 
he  had  ever  been  prefigured  to  mankind. 

Under  the  Gospel  we  are  all  first-born  ;  all  heirs — eve- 
ry soul  is  consecrated  to  the  Lord — we  are  a  royal  gen- 
eration, a  holy  priesthood.  Nothing  can  become  us  but 
holiness.  O  thou,  to  whom  we  are  devoted,  by  whose 
holy  name  we  are  called,  accept  our  services — pardon  our 
imperfections — glorify  thyself  by  us — and,  through  thy 
merits  and  mediation,  let  us  be  glorified  with  thee  for 
evermore.    Amen. 


58.— HEROD    AND    THE    INFANTS. 

The  secrecy  of  Herod  was  of  itself  just  cause  of  suspi- 
cion to  the  eastern  sages.  If  his  designs  were  laudable, 
what  needed  his  dark  and  private  consultations  1  Why  did 
he  intrust  an  affair  of  such  magnitude  to  strangers,  with- 
out associating  himself  or  his  people  with  them  in  their 
search  after  the  new-born  King  ] 

God,  who  had  conducted  the  wise  men  to  Judea,  takes 


278  hall's    SCRirTURE    HISTORY. 

on  himself  tlie  guidance  of  tlieir  return.  No  sooner  have 
they  paid  their  adorations  and  presented  their  oft'eringa 
to  liis  blessed  Son,  than  they  are  honored  with  a  second 
message  from  the  Almighty.  They  saw  the  star  in  the 
way,  the  angel  at  Bethlehem.  The  star  directed  their 
journey  to  Christ,  the  angel  taught  them  to  shun  the  pre- 
sence of  Herod — they  saw  the  star  by  day,  the  angel  by 
night.  God,  who  had  already  spoken  to  their  eyes,  now 
addresses  their  hearts.  No  doubt  they  who  had  publish- 
ed the  birth  of  the  Messiah  by  their  inquiry  at  Jerusalem, 
were  not  silent  when  they  had  found  him  at  Bethlehem. 
What  might  they  nave  expected  but  death,  had  they  re- 
turned to  the  tyrant  ]  Herod  meditated  destruction  to  the 
babe  whom  they  sought — would  he  have  spared  those 
who  openly  acknowledged  his  rival  ]  But  the  object  of 
their  mission  being  accomplished,  He  who  sent  them  pro- 
vides for  their  safety.  When  God  countemianded  Herod 
there  was  no  hesitation  whom  to  obey.  Aware  that  they 
had  every  thing  to  expect  from  the  usurper's  fury,  if  (be- 
fore they  left  Judea)  he  should  discover  that  he  had  been 
mocked  in  his  own  territories  by  strangers,  they  were  con- 
tent to  commit  their  way  unto  the  Lord — they  trusted  in 
him — and  his  mercy  brought  to  pass  their  deliverance. 

The  wise  men  once  more  in  tlieir  native  country,  fill 
the  world  with  expectation  and  wonder — while  Joseph 
and  Mary  are  yet  in  Jerusalem,  ignorant  of  those  dark 
stratagems  which  jealousy  and  suspicion  were  forming 
against  the  innocent  Jesus.  The  city  was  full  of  rumors 
— but  the  object  of  them  was  concealed  from  the  eye  of 
curiosity  or  malice.  How,  when  the  blessed  virgin  pre- 
pares to  return  to  Nazareth,  (the  destined  place  of  her 
abode,)  God  prevents  hor  by  his  angel,  and  sends  her  for 
security  into  Egypt. 

It  was  not  long  since  a  messenger  from  heaven  had  ap- 
Dcared  to  Joseph,  to  attest  the  innocence  of  the  mother 
and  the  divinity  of  the  Son — he  appears  again  for  the  pre- 


HEROD    AND    THE    INFANTS.  279 

iiervation  of  both,  a  preservation  only  to  be  effected  by 
flight.  No  shadow  of  doubt  intervenes,  no  disbelief  per- 
]>lexes  this  servant  of  God.  He  says  not — "  Is  this  the 
King  who  shall  deliver  Israel  ?  If  he  be  the  Son  of  God, 
-vvhy  is  he  subject  to  the  violence  of  man  ]  If  he  be  al- 
mighty, why  must  he  flee  1  Why  depart  from  that  land 
he  conies  to  govern  and  to  save  "?"  The  pious  Joseph  had 
learned  better  things  from  the  angel.  He  had  treasured  in 
liis  mind  the  words  and  actions  of  the  wise  men,  of  Anna, 
of  Simeon.  He  knew  that  faith  was  the  evidence  of  things 
imseen.  Implicitly  relying  on  the  power  and  wisdom  of 
the  God  who  thus  signified  his  holy  will,  he  believed,  and 
wondered,  and  obeyed. 

O  strange  condition  of  the  King  of  glory  !  Even  the 
lowly  estate  in  which  he  was  born  will  not  afford  that 
safety  which  is  the  best  privilege  attendant  on  poverty; 
There  was  no  room  for  him,  either  in  Bethlehem  or  in^ 
Judea — no  sooner  is  he  come  to  his  own,  than  he  must 
flee  from  them  and  betake  himself  into  Egypt.  How 
easily,  O  Savior,  mightest  thou  have  rescued  thyself 
against  Herod  1  How  could  an  arm  of  flesh  have  prevail- 
ed against  thy  mighty  power  ?  Thou  mightest  have  com- 
manded fire  to  come  down  from  heaven,  or  have  bidden 
the  earth  open  her  mouth  and  swallow  up  thine  enemies 
— but  as  thou  wouldst  be  boni  poor  and  lowly,  so  thou 
wouldstlive  subject  to  human  vexations,  that  having  taught 
us  how  good  it  is  to  boar  the  yoke  even  in  our  youth,  thou 
mightest  sanctify  to  us  early  aflflictions.  Why  then  do 
the  members  complain  if  they  partake  of  those  sufferings 
which  were  patiently  submitted  to  by  their  Head  ? 

The  life  and  the  adversity  of  our  Redeemer  began  to- 
gether. Already  did  the  sword  pierce  the  blessed  virgin's 
soul,  while  she  clasped  the  heavenly  infant  to  her  bosom 
in  all  the  anxiety  of  maternal  tenderness,  and  trembled 
for  his  innocent  life.  Egypt  itself  was  a  Paradise,  while 
it  afforded  him  a  place  of  refuge.     His  presence  ond  liis 


280  HAI-L.'S    SCRIPTURE    HISTORY. 

safety  were  arguments  of  comfort  in  the  midst  of  sorrow 
— a  light  which  shone  through  suiTounding  darkness.  And 
does  the  mother  of  Jesus  flee  for  succor  and  preserva- 
tion to  the  scene  of  Israel's  past  affliction,  the  once  cniel, 
once  inhospitable  land  which  oppressed  the  people  of 
God  ?  What  a  change  is  here  1  Israel,  the  first-born  of 
God,  flees  out  of  Egypt  into  Judea — Christ,  the  first-born 
of  every  creature,  must  flee  from  Judea  into  Egypt.  O 
thou,  who  art  every  where  present,  every  where  the  same, 
thou  canst  make  all  things  tend  to  the  deliverance  of  thy 
children.  The  fiery  furnace,  the  den  of  lions,  the  deep 
and  wide  sea,  the  land  of  Egypt  itself,  can  all  by  thy 
command  become  mansions  of  peace  and  security. 

Joseph  having  received  his  charge  in  the  night,  delays 
not  till  morning.  God  said  "  Arise  !"  and  he  arose.  Obe- 
dience hastened  his  departure  ;  the  charge  was  direct — 
the  business  important — he  dares  not  taiTy  for  the  light, 
but  departs  at  once  towards  Egypt.  The  tyrant  had  not 
yet  so  fully  arranged  his  horrible  designs  as  to  make  the 
removal  of  the  holy  family  a  matter  of  difficulty — thus  far 
their  poverty  seems  to  have  sheltered  them  from  suspicion 
and  procured  them  a  peaceful  introduction  to  the  land  of 
their  pilgi'image.  But  they  had  greater  and  stronger  pro- 
tection— all  the  host  of  heaven  encamped  around  the  Sa- 
vior of  mankind — neither  Herod  nor  the  united  force  of 
the  powers  of  darkness  could  prevail  against  him.  In  the 
region  whither  God  himself  had  directed  them  to  seek 
for  refuge,  they  abide  in  peace  and  security  till  these 
calamities  are  overpast. 

Meantime  the  sanguinary  Herod  laments  his  folly  and 
infatuation,  beholds  all  his  stratagems  fail  of  their  effect, 
all  his  treachery  prove  abortive.  In  vain  does  he  expect 
the  return  of  the  eastern  sages.  His  falsely-assumed  piety, 
his  specious  pretext  of  a  design  to  worship  the  heavenly 
child,  have  neither  engaged  these  illustrious  converts  in 
his  service,  nor  inarked  out  to  him  the  object  of  his  vin- 


HEROD    AND    THE    INFANTS.  2S1 

tlictive  terrors.  He  learns  that  the  wise  men  are  depart- 
ed from  Bethlehem — that  they  are  returned  into  their  own 
country — that  his  designs  are  baffled  and  counteracted 
both  by  God  and  man. 

The  chief  priests  and  scribes  had  made  him  acquaint- 
ed with  the  place  where  the  Messiah  should  be  born.  He 
suspects  not  the  flight  of  Jesus — he  knows  not  the  name, 
he  cannot  exactly  ascertain  the  age  of  Him  whom  the 
sages  had  proclaimed  King  of  the  Jews.  But  now  his  an- 
ger passes  all  bounds,  and  his  fear  proves  desperate.  All 
the  infants  of  Bethlehem  shall  bleed,  that  the  rival  of  He- 
rod may  be  among  the  slain.  All,  even  to  the  age  of  two 
years,  shall  be  included  in,  the  massacre.  Some  precious 
pretence  is  alleged  for  assembling  into  one  place  the  in- 
habitants of  the  adjoining  coasts.  A  tyi'annous  guiltiness 
never  thinks  itself  safe  ;  but  still  seeks  further  security 
in  the  excess  of  cruelty.  He  who  had  made  such  private 
inquiries  after  Christ,  no  doubt  kept  secret  his  abhorred 
design  till  the  moment  fixed  on  for  its  perpetration. 
Then,  on  a  sudden  the  messengers  of  his  fury  rush  in, 
tear  the  helpless  victims  from  the  arms  of  maternal  love, 
and,  without  any  regard  to  tears  or  entreaties,  murder  the 
innocent  babes,  and  leave  their  wretched  mothers  in  a  state 
between  madness  and  death.  *'  In  Ramah  was  there  a 
voice  heard — lamentation,  and  weeping,  and  gi^eat  mourn- 
ing— Rachel  weeping  for  her  children,  and  would  not  be 
comforted,  because  they  are  not." 

Behold  the  first  fruits  to  God  and  to  the  Lamb  !  While 
their  early  age  made  them  incapable  of  judging  for  them- 
selves, their  sufferings  are  accepted  and  recompensed  with 
a  martyr's  crown.  Summoned  to  the  bosom  of  their 
heavenly  Father,  they  escape  the  sorrows  of  a  miserable 
world  and  enter  at  once  into  everlasting  joy.  There  are 
they  joined  by  an  innumerable  multitude  of  blessed  souls, 
whom  it  has  pleased  God,  from  time  to  time,  to  take 
away  in  the  dawn  of  life  from  the  world  unto  himself — 


2S2  HALL  S    SCRIPTURE    HISTORY. 

happy  objects  of  their  Savior's  love,   who,  even  in  their 
tender  years,  are  ripe  for  glory. 

The  bloody,  inhuman  tyrant  survives  not  long  this  odi- 
ous execution — he  could  take  away  the  lives  of  others — 
he  could  not  protract  his  o\\ti.  While  he  imagines  that 
he  has  cut  off  his  rival  from  the  earth,  and  beguiled  the 
star,  and  eluded  the  prophecies,  he  is  summoned  to  the 
tribunal  of  that  just  God  who  maketh  inquisition  for 
guiltless  blood.  The  ungodly  in  his  pride  doth  persecute 
the  poor — he  lieth  waiting  secretly,  as  a  lion  lurketh  in 
his  den — he  imagines  wickedness,  and  practises  it.  But 
thou,  O  God,  shalt  bring  him  into  the  pit  of  destruction — 
blood-thirsty  and  deceitful  men  shall  not  live  out  half  their 
days — Oh  how  suddenly  do  they  consume,  perish,  and 
come  to  a  fearful  end  ! 


59.— CHRIST    WITH    THE    DOCTORS   IN 
THE    TEMPLE. 

The  oppressor  is  no  more — the  voice  of  God  recalls  the 
holy  family  from  their  exile.  That  voice  which  had  dis- 
missed them  into  Egypt,  bids  them  retuiTi  without  fear  or 
hazard  to  their  native  country.  There,  in  the  retirement 
suited  to  his  tender  years,  the  blessed  Jesus  lives  subject 
to  his  mother  and  to  her  husband.  Yet  even  the  spring 
shows  us  what  we  may  expect  from  the  approaching  sum- 
mer. In  his  childhood  our  Savior  would  give  mankind  a 
proof  of  his  Divine  graces,  to  prepare  the  world  for  that 
perfection  which  afterwards  demonstrated  him  to  be  the 
power  of  God,  and  the  wisdom  of  God.  The  sun  would 
dazzle  all  eyes,  if  at  its  first  rising  it  appeared  in  its  ful- 
ness of  strength — but  the  morning-star  precedes  that  glo- 


CHRIST    IN    THE    TEMPLE.  283 

nous  luminary,  and  the  lively  colors  of  tlie  dawn  proclaim 
its  approach.  Thus  the  eye  is  comforted,  not  overj^ower- 
ed  by  the  appearance  of  the  orb  of  light,  when  it  cometh 
forth  as  a  bridegi'oom  out  of  his  chamber,  and  rejoiceth 
as  a  giant  to  run  his  course. 

The  blessed  virgin  went  up  to  Jerusalem  yearly  at  the 
feast  of  the  passover,  accompanied,  even  in  his  early 
youth,  by  the  child  Jesus.  In  all  his  actions  he  had  a  view 
to  our  instruction — he  was  not  only  "  a  sacrifice  for  sin, 
but  also  an  example  of  godly  life."  That  example  guides 
our  first  years  into  timely  devotion.  Happy  are  they 
whose  childhood,  spent  in  piety  to  God,  sanctifies  their 
riper  age  !  He  who  rises  isarly  in  the  morning  to  pursue 
his  journey,  is  more  likely  to  meet  with  success  than  he 
who  idly  lingers  till  the  day  be  far  sjoent. 

The  inhabitants  of  Judea,  according  to  the  custom  of  their 
ancestors,  w^ent  up  by  companies  to  the  solemnity  of  their 
holy  festival  at  Jeinisalem.  They  went  and  they  return- 
ed together.  Friendship,  combined  with  piety,  is  of  it- 
self a  preparation  for  heaven — the  journey,  always  de- 
lightful, affords  new  comfort  by  means  of  this  blissful  so- 
ciety. It  is  not  the  least  benefit  of  our  solemn  assemblies, 
that  the  mutual  encouragement  of  christians  excites  them 
to  love  and  to  good  works.  **  I  was  glad  w^hen  they  said 
unto  me,  Let  us  go  unto  the  house  of  the  Lord.  Our  feet 
shall  stand  within  thy  gates,  O  JeiTisalem  !  Jerusalem  is 
built  as  a  city  that  is  at  unity  in  itself — for  thither  the 
tribes  go  up,  the  tribes  of  the  Lord,  to  testify  unto  Israel, 
to  give  thanks  unto  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

The  blessed  virgin  having  concluded  her  acts  of  devo- 
tion, departs  from  the  holy  city.  Who  can  express  tlie 
sorrow  of  her  heart  when,  at  eventide,  she  sought  for  Je- 
sus among  her  kindred  and  acquaintance,  and  sought  him 
in  vain  ?  How  did  she  blame  her  credulous  neglect  in 
not  attending  to  the  precious  charge  1  How  did  she  re- 
gret that  her  eyes  had  ever  been  removed  from  the  ob- 


284  hall's  scripture  history. 

ject  of  her  love  1  What  imaginations  of  hoiTor  tortured 
her  spirit  !  O  Mary,  has  the  successor  of  Herod,  by  more 
prosperous  devices,  prevailed  against  the  childhood  of 
that  Son  whose  infancy  was  so  miraculously  preserved  ? 
Or  has  any  want  of  duty  or  attention  on  thy  part  occasion- 
ed his  absence  1  Or  is  he,  without  any  previous  notice, 
withdravv^n  from  earth  and  returned  to  his  heavenly  glory  ] 

Lord,  who  can  but  mourn  when  in  a  state  of  separation 
from  thee  ]  Who,  that  has  seen  the  light  of  thy  counte- 
nance can  do  otherwise  than  lament  thy  departure  1  Just 
is  that  grief,  seasonable  are  those  tears  which  are  bestow- 
ed on  such  a  loss.  What  comfort  can  we  receive  without 
thee  ?  What  can  afford  us  relief,  or  mitigate  our  distress, 
but  thyself]  If  in  thy  presence  is  the  fulness  of  joy  ^  to  be 
bereaved  of  thee  is  the  fulness  of  sorrow,  and  all  is  dark- 
ness and  desolation  till  thy  return. 

In  vain  is  Christ  sought  among  his  kindred — his  anx- 
ious mother  returns  to  Jerusalem.  She  goes  about  the  city, 
by  the  streets  and  open  places,  and  seeks  him  whom  her 
soul  loveth — she  seeks  him,  and  finds  him  not.  At  last, 
on  the  third  day,  she  enters  into  the  temple  of  God. 
Where  wert  thou,  O  blessed  Jesus,  for  the  space  of  these 
three  days  ?  With  whom  didst  tliou  take  up  thine  abode  ] 
Who  or  where  were  thine  attendants  1  Didst  thou  call  on 
thy  heavenly  Father  to  support  thee  by  miracle  1  Didst 
thou  command  the  ministry  of  angels  ?  Or  didst  thou  deign 
to  accept  the  hospitality  of  some  highly-favored  mortal  ? 
O  God,  what  thou  hast  not  revealed  we  presume  not  to 
inquire  into — of  this  only  are  we  assured,  that  thou  here- 
by wouldst  acquaint  thy  blessed  mother  with  a  portion 
of  thy  mighty  power — and  wouldst  convince  her,  that  not 
out  of  any  indigence,  but  in  merciful  condescension,  thou 
wouldst  ordinarily  depend  upon  her  care.  • 

In  the  mean  time  thy  Divine  wisdom  could  not  but  foie- 
know  all  those  corroding  thoughts  with  which  the  heart 
of  thy  fond  parent  would  bleed  during  this  painful  sepa- 


CHRIST    IN    THE    TEMPLE.  285 

ration — yet  vvouldst  tliou  leave  her  for  a  season  to  lier  sor- 
row. Even  her  who  bare  thee  thou  didst  chasten  with 
this  early  affliction.  Never  did  any  love  thee  who  are  not 
sometimes  visited  with  thy  coiTecting  hand. 

"  Verily  thou  art  a  God  that  hidest  thyself,  O  God  of 
Israel,  the  Savior."  Therefore  dost  thou  withdraw  thy 
face  from  thy  servants,  that  they  may  experience  the  joy 
of  recovering  thee,  and  may  be  more  anxious  to  retain 
thee.  Thou  hast  said,  who  canst  not  lie,  "  I  am  with  you 
alway,  unto  the  end  of  the  world  " — but  sometimes  while 
really  j^rcsent,  thou  thinkest  good  to  be  absent  from  our 
apprehensions.  O  Lord,  if  thou  leave  us  thou  wilt  not 
forsake  us — thou  mayest  leave  us  for  our  humiliation  ;  but 
thou  wilt  not  forsake  us  to  our  final  discomfort.  If  we  seek 
thee,  thou  wilt  be  found  of  us — miore  especially  if  we  seek 
thee  in  that  place  where  thine  honor  dwelleth.  None 
ever  sincerely  desire  thy  presence  to  whom  thou  dost  re- 
fuse to  manifest  thyself,  when  it  seemeth  good  in  thy  sight. 
Hope  deferred  maketh  the  heart  sick — thine  absence  shall 
not  be  so  lono-  in  its  duration  as  to  extini^uish  that  lidit 
of  our  souls.  In  due  season  we  shall  find  thee — and  where 
shall  we  hope  to  find  thee,  if  not  in  thy  temple  ]  This  is  the 
habitation  of  the  Lord  of  glory — this  is  the  place  of  his 
rest  for  ever. 

Ye  who  lament  the  departure  of  your  Savior  know 
where  to  direct  your  researches  in  sure  confidence  of  suc- 
cess. In  vain  shall  ye  hope  to  find  him  amidst  worldly 
cares  or  vain  gi-atifications — let  your  steps  be  directed  to 
the  sanctuary — seek  him  with  faith — seek  him  with  piety 
— there  shall  ye  meet  him,  there  shall  ye  find  him. 

The  Son  of  God  had  duties  to  perform  in  his  Father's 
house  when  those  of  his  companions  were  ended — he  tar- 
ried therefore,  not  to  gaze  with  admiration  on  the  outward 
glory  and  magnificence  of  the  temple,  but  to  hear  the 
teachers  of  the  law  in  their  place  of  assembly,  and  to  im. 
fa.rt,  while  he  seemed  to  receive,  information.    He  from 


28G  hall's    scripture    UIStORY. 

wliom  all  knowledge  is  derived,  hearkens,  as  the  son  of 
man,  to  the  wisdom  he  had  implanted  in  tlie  wise.  The 
Author  of  all  learning  sits  in  their  school  as  an  humble  dis- 
ciple— not  yet  called  by  his  heavenly  Father  to  his  pubhc 
function,  he  is  contented  to  hear  with  diligence,  to  ask 
with  modesty,  and  to  teach  only  by  gentle  insinuation. 
Let  all  those  consider  this  who  deem  it  not  necessary  to 
await  a  solemn  designation  to  the  office  of  the  ministry, 
according  to  the  laws  of  God  and  man.  Let  them  open 
their  eyes  and  behold  their  Savior  meekly  sitting  as  an 
auditor  amidst  the  Jewish  teachers,  and  hearkening  to  the 
voice  of  instruction.  Never  did  he  preach  unto  the  people 
till  the  solemn  consecration  of  his  Father,  at  his  baptism, 
sent  him  forth  to  declare  the  counsel  of  God. 

Behold  the  Son  of  God  thus  reverently  placed  at  the 
feet  of  the  doctors  of  Israel  and  seeking  for  the  treasures 
of  ancient  wisdom.  First  he  hears,  then  he  asks — how 
much  more  does  it  concern  us  to  be  hearers  ourselves, 
ere  we  presume  to  be  teachers  of  others  !  If  we  expend 
before  we  gather,  we  shall  in  vain  hope  to  lay  up  the  j^len- 
teous  stores  of  useful  and  saving  knowledge. 

When  he  hath  heard,  he  asks  ;  and  afterward  he  an- 
swers. Doubtless  those  very  questions  were  instructions, 
and  designed  for  the  advantage  of  those  to  whom  they 
were  propounded.  Never  had  these  masters  of  Israel 
heard  the  voice  of  such  a  teacher — in  whom  the  wisdom 
of  God  in  part  concealed  itself,  in  part  was  discovered  to 
mankind.  No  marvel  that  they  all  wondered  at  the  un- 
derstanding of  their  youthful  associate — their  eyes  beheld 
nothing  but  human  weakness — their  eai's  heard  Divine  sub- 
limity of  matter — between  both,  their  hearts  were  full  of 
doubtful  admiration.  Why  did  ye  not  remember,  O  ye 
Jewish  teachers,  that  a  Child  should  be  bom,  a  Son  given, 
whose  name  should  be  called  Wonderful,  Counsellor,  the 
Prince  of  Peace  ?  Why  did  ye  not  remember  what  the 
star,  the  ^ages,  the  angels,  Zacharias,  Simeon,  Anna  had 


CHRIST    BAPTIZED.  287 

revealed  iii  your  aays  ?  Fruitless  is  that  wonder  which 
does  not  terminate  in  faith.  No  liQ^ht  is  sufficient  where 
the  eyes  are  sealed  up  by  prejudice  or  unbelief. 

How  did  joy  strive  with  astonishment  in  the  heart  of 
the  blessed  virgin  when  her  eyes  were  fastened  on  her 
child  !  Forgetful  of  those  higher  claims,  which  in  a  calmer 
moment  she  could  not  but  acknowledge,  she  breaks  forth 
into  a  loving  expostulation — **  Son,  why  hast  thou  thus 
dealt  with  us  1  Thy  father  and  I  have  sought  thee  soi- 
rowing  !"  Our  Savior  in  his  reply,  not  only  accounts  for 
his  absence,  but  points  out  the  momentous  purpose  which 
had  occasioned  it.  Mary,  in  compliance  with  the  sup- 
position of  the  world,  had.  spoken  of  Joseph  as  the  fa- 
ther of  Christ.  The  Son  of  God  directs  her  thoughts  from 
earth  to  heaven.  "  Wist  ye  not  that  I  must  be  about  my 
Father's  business  V  The  eternal  Son  of  his  eternal  Father 
tells  the  daughter  of  man  that  all  earthly  considerations,  of 
what  nature  soever,  must  give  place  to  the  God  of  spirits. 
She  hears  the  just  admonition  and  acquiesces  in  respect- 
ful silence.  O  thou  who  hast  vouchsafed  to  call  us  thy 
children,  by  whose  gracious  adoption  we  are  the  sons  of, 
God,  teach  us  to  lay  aside  all  earthly  distractions,  and  dedi- 
cate our  hearts  to  thee.  One  day  in  thy  courts  is  better 
than  a  thousand  elsewhere.  Let  us  wait  for  thy  loving- 
kindness,  O  Lord,  in  the  midst  of  thy  temple  ! 


60.— CHRIST    BAPTIZED. 

In  a  state  of  separation  from  the  world,  and  under  the 
immediate  tuition  of  heaven,  John  the  Baptist  was  initi- 
ated into  the  mysteries  of  Divine  wisdom.    It  is  expedient 


2SS  hall's  scripture  history. 

that  solitude  and  contemplation  should  prepare  the  mni- 
ister  of  the  Gospel  for  the  duties  of  his  important  office : 
the  servant  of  God,  who  would  faithfully  discharge  liis 
high  calling  in  j^ublic,  must  first  qualify  himself  for  that 
purpose  in  private.  In  the  pursuit  of  heavenly  knowledge, 
he  must,  as  it  were,  converse  with  patriarchs  and  prophets, 
apostles,  martyrs,  confessors,  holy  men  of  God,  who  onco 
adorned  the  church  by  their  lives,  and  have  continued 
since  their  death  to  edify  it  by  their  writings.  He  must 
have  recourse  to  a  state  of  calm  retirement,  where  anxious 
cares  and  delusive  pleasures  may  not  break  in  upon  him, 
to  dissipate  his  attention — where  no  uncharitable  spirit 
may  blind  his  understanding  or  obstruct  the  illumination 
from  above — where  every  bud  of  piety,  sheltered  from 
noxious  blasts,  may  be  gradually  reared  up  into  strength, 
and  beauty,  and  fragrance — where,  in  a  word,  "  he  may 
wax  strong  in  spirit  until  the  day  of  his  showing  unto 

Israel." 

But  the  retirement  of  this  blessed  saint  of  God  is  finish- 
ed, and  he  must  now  exchange  the  pleasures  of  contem- 
plation for  the  scenes  of  active  life — he  must  behold,  with 
gi'ief  and  indignation,  the  sins  and  follies  of  mankind,  and 
encounter  the  opposition  of  a  world  that  would  not  fail 
to  take  arms  against  a  preacher  of  repentance. 

Attracted  by  the  uncommon  sanctity  of  the  Baptist,  the 
inhabitants  of  the  neighboring  cities  and  villages  repair 
in  great  numbers  to  the  wilderness.  They  behold  one 
cominsr  forth  on  a  sudden,  like  an  inhabitant  of  another 
world,  whose  person,  demeanor  and  manner  of  life  were 
themselves  an  illustration  of  his  doctrine.  They  behold 
one  sent  to  prejDare  the  Avay  for  Christ,  and  to  bring 
the  glad  tidings  of  the  Gospel — that  mercy  might  save 
from  the  wrath  which  justice  had  denounced,  and  that 
Jesus  might  comfort  those  whom  Moses  had  caused  to 
mourn.  Elijah  reclaimed  the  people  from  the  worshii:>  of 
Baal  to  that  of  the  true  Jehovah.    John  called  his  hearers 


CHRIST    BAPTIZED.  2S9 

from  unbelief,  hypocrisy  and  vice,  to  faith,  to  holiness, 
and  to  God. 

It  was  fit  that  He,  whose  coming  into  the  world  was 
foretold  by  prophets,  and  notified  by  angels,  should  be 
proclaimed  by  this  his  herald,  when  he  should  reveal 
himself  to  mankind.  John  was  the  voice  of  one  crying  in 
the  wilderness — Christ  was  the  Word  of  God  himself 
The  voice  of  the  messenger  justly  preceded  the  word  of  the 
Father,  "  Repent  ye — for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand. 
A  new  and  heavenly  kingdom  is  about  to  be  set  up  amongst 
you,  under  a  heavenly  king,  the  promised  Messiah — and 
none  but  men  of  a  temper  and  disposition  corresponding 
to  it  can  possibly  become' its  subjects.  I  am  die  person 
commissioned  to  prepare  you  for  your  happy  change  by 
calling  you  to  repentance,  and  to  my  baptism,  which  is 
the  baptism  of  repentance  for  the  remission  of  sins, 
through  faith  in  Him  who  cometh  after  me  to  confer  par- 
don and  forgiveness.  I  am  the  prophet  foretold  by  Malachi 
and  Isaiah,  sent  to  prepare  the  way  for  Him  who  is  your 
King  and  your  God,  now  ready  to  be  manifested  as  the 
Savior  of  men." 

Thus  must  the  way  be  made  for  Christ  in  every 
heart — violence  must  be  offered  to  our  corruptions  ere 
we  can  have  room  for  grace.  Never  will  he  enter  that 
soul  where  the  herald  of  repentance  hath  not  been 
before  him. 

At  last  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  begins  to  show  itself 
to  the  world.  After  thirty  years  passed  in  retirement  at 
Nazareth,  the  Redeemer  of  mankind  appears,  to  enlight- 
en them  by  his  doctrine  and  refresh  them  by  the  influences 
of  his  grace.  The  vast  concourse  of  all  ranks  of  people 
attending  on  the  Baptist  at  the  river  Jordan,  rendered  that 
the  fittest  place  where  the  Messiah  might  first  show  him- 
eelf  to  the  world.  He  who  knew  no  sin,  would  both  be 
circumcised,  to  sanctify  the  past  dispensation,  and  baptiz- 
ed, to  consecrate  the  future  ;    that  so  under  both  testa- 

Script.  HlsL  13 


290  hall's    SCRirTURE    HISTORY. 

nients  he  miglit  open  a  way  into  heaven  for  us,  heing 
made  the  righteousness  of  God  in  him. 

Never  till  this  moment  had  the  forerunner  of  our  Sa- 
vior seen  him  whom  he  was  commissioned  to  proclaim. 
Jesus  Avas  brought  up  at  Nazareth — John  in  the  wilder- 
ness— no  interview  had  passed  between  them ;  lest  the 
voice  of  infidelity  should  accuse  them  of  acting  in  concert 
to  favor  each  other's  pretensions.  When  Jesus  there- 
fore came  to  be  baptized,  John  had  no  knowledge  of  his 
person.  Immediate  revelation  from  God  points  out  to  tlie 
Baptist  that  the  Lord's  Anointed  is  before  him.  He  hears 
the  name,  the  place  of  abode  of  Jesus.  While  others 
]>refaced  their  baptism  by  a  solemn  confession  of  sins,  he 
beholds  one  whose  whole  life  had  been  a  life  of  unspotted 
iiinocence.  This  then  could  be  no  other  than  that  Just 
One  whose  coming  he  had  been  taught  to  expect,  and 
to  whom  the  Almighty  was  about  to  bear  witness  from 
heaven. 

Confounded  at  the  thought  that  the  master  should  thus 
humble  himself  before  the  servant,  the  Baptist  modestly 
declines  an  honor  he  deemed  too  o^reat  even  for  the  ori'eat- 
est  of  prophets — "  I  have  need  to  be  baj^tized  of  thee,  and 
comest  thou  to  me  ]"  A  sense  of  human  infirmity,  and  a 
due  estimation  of  the  value  of  spiritual  gifts,  is  the  best 
trial  of  a  reorenerate  heart.  Our  Blessed  Savior  denies  not 

CD 

the  assertion  of  his  forerunner — but  he  will  thus  far  exalt 
the  Baptist  and  demean  himself — "  Suffer  it  to  be  so  now, 
for  thus  it  becometh  us  to  fulfil  all  lighteousness."  Thy 
mercy,  O  Lord,  condescends  to  be  beholden  to  thy  crea- 
tures for  those  gifts  which  they  originally  received  from 
thee.  Made  under  the  law,  thou  woulchst  fulfil  the  righte- 
ousness of  the  law,  consisting  in  an  obedience  to  ceremo- 
nial rites  as  well  as  moral  precepts.  The  counsels  and 
a2>pointments  of  God  are  *' righteousness"  itself.  There 
needs  no  other  motive,  either  to  the  servant  or  the  Son, 
than  the  knowledge  of  those  righteous  pui^oses.  This  was 


CHRIST    BAPTIZED.  291 

enough  to  lead  the  faitliful  heart  through  all  difficulties — 
the  unanswerable  aro^ument  which  challenofed  instant 
obedience.  John  accepts  in  all  humility  the  high  office  to 
which  his  Savior  hath  called  him — he  gives  ba2:)tism  to  the 
Redeemer  of  mankind.  Others  were  baptized  for  the  re- 
mission of  their  sins — now  He  through  whose  merits  a 
sinful  world  obtains  forgiveness  unto  life. 

No  sooner  was  Jesus  ba^^tized  than  he  came  up  straight- 
way out  of  the  water — He  stood  on  the  brink  of  Jordan,  a 
greater  than  Joshua,  preparing  to  lead  the  people  of  God 
to  the  land  of  promise.  There,  O  Savior,  didst  thou  pour 
forth  thy  soul  in  prayer  to  thine  almighty  Father — there 
didst  thou  implore  success  in  the  gi'eat  work  thou  hadst 
undertaken  in  behalf  of  a  sinful  world.  What  prayer  of 
thine  could  ascend  to  heaven  unheard  ?  Lo,  while  thou 
prayest,  the  eternal  Spirit  of  God  descends  on  thy  sacred 
head,  and  in  a  form  emblematical  of  peace,  and  innocence, 
and  purity,  it  rests  upon  thee.  Thus  did  the  Father  conse- 
crate thee  to  thine  office — thus  did  he  anoint  thee  with  the 
Holy  Ghost  and  with  power.  Long  since  had  this  aston- 
ishing event  been  foretold  by  thine  evangelical  prophet. 
Speaking  in  thine  own  person,  he  proclaimed  to  mankind, 
"  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  God  is  upon  me,  because  the  Lord 
hath  anointed  me  to  preach  good  tidings  to  the  meek — 
he  hath  sent  me  to  bind  up  the  broken-hearted,  to  proclaim 
liberty  to  the  captives,  and  the  opening  of  the  j^rison  to 
them  that  are  bound — to  comfort  them  that  mourn."  This 
day — it  is  thine  own  word — this  day  was  the  oracle  of  Je- 
hovah fulfilled  in  the  ears  of  thy  people — for,  lo,  a  voice 
from  heaven,  "  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am 
well  pleased." 

.Tohn  bare  record  and  said,  ''Behold  the  Laml  of  Gcd 
which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world.  Behold  that  bless- 
ed person,  prefigured  in  the  law  and  foretold  by  the  pro- 
phets— one  who  is  all  meekness  and  innocence,  patience 
and  resignation,  without  offence  in  his  lips,  without  guile 


292  hall's  scripture  history. 

or  malice  in  his  heart,  in  whom  dwelleth  the  fulness  of  the 
Godhead  bodily.  This  is  the  Lamb,  of  which  the  patri- 
arch Abraham  spake  to  his  son,  that  God  would  send  him 
in  due  time — the  Lamb,  by  the  sprinkling  of  whose  blood 
the  true  Israelites  are  preserv^ed  from  the  destroyer — the 
sacrifice,  on  which  are  laid  the  iniquities  of  us  all — the 
Savior,  who  by  expiating,  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world 
and  conferreth  righteousness  on  them  who  will  be  con- 
formed to  his  example.  This,  O  all  ye  that  behold  him, 
this  is  he  of  whom  I  said,  after  me  cometh  a  man  which  is 
preferred  before  me — for  he  was  before  me.  His  existence  is 
from  everlasting — he  is  fairer  than  the  children  of  men 
— full  of  grace  and  truth — of  Divine  glory  and  celestial 
beauty,  endued  with  the  fulness  of  the  Spirit,  dispensing 
honor  and  immortality  to  mankind.  He  is  the  Son  of 
God — he  is  the  King  of  Israel!'* 


61.— CHRIST  TEMPTED. 

The  water  of  baptism  is  succeeded  by  the  fire  of  temp- 
tation. The  Holy  Spirit  of  God  hath  no  sooner  descend- 
ed upon  the  blessed  Jesus  than  he  is  called  to  encounter 
the  powers  of  darkness.  The  more  we  are  engaged  in  tho 
service  of  God  by  our  public  vows,  and  by  the  Divine  fa- 
vor, the  more  is  the  rage  of  Satan  exasperated  against  us. 
When  we  come  forward  into  the  field  of  battle,  as  mem- 
bers of  a  militant  church,  he  labors  to  wrest  our  weapons 
from  our  hands  or  artfully  to  turn  them  against  ourselves. 

The  voice  from  heaven  had  acknowledged  Christ  to 
be  the  Son  of  God.  This  glorious  testimony  does  but 
inflame  the  malice  of  the  enemy.  The  serpent  swells  with 
more  malignant  poison,  and  hastens  to  assault  Him  whom 
God  hath  honored  from  his  throne.     O  Lord,  how  shall 


CHRIST    TEMPTED.  293 

a  mortal  escape  that  wicked  one,  when  the  Son  of  thy  love 
could  not  be  free — when  grace  itself  draws  on  enmity  1 
Will  he  who  spared  not  to  strike  at  the  Head,  forbear  to 
attack  the  members  1  Arm  thou  us,  O  God,  with  expec- 
tation of  that  evil  we  cannot  avoid — make  thou  us  as  in- 
trepid as  the  tempter  is  malicious — let  thy  strength  be 
made  perfect  in  our  weakness — so  we  shall  be  more  than 
conquerors  through  him  that  loved  us. 

During  the  time  that  our  Savior  dwelt  in  his  peaceful 
retirement,  Satan  bent  not  his  forces  against  him — now, 
that  he  meditates  the  public  exercise  of  his  sacred  office, 
he  must  be  prepared  for  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked. 
O  Savior,  who  can  sufficiently  wonder  at  the  presumption 
of  that  apostate  spirit  who  dares  oppose  himself  to  the 
Son  of  the  overliving  God  1  Who  can  sufficiently  admire 
thy  meekness  and  patience,  which  would  condescend  to 
be  thus  tempted  1  The  rashness  of  thine  adversary  is  ex- 
ceeded by  thine  own  humility.  If  a  state  of  innocence 
could  have  affi>rded  an  exemption,  the  first  Adam  would 
not  have  been  thus  assaulted,  much  less  the  second.  But, 
O  gracious  Lord,  how  glorious  was  it  for  thee,  how  happy 
for  us,  that  thou  wert  tem.pted  !  Hadst  thou  not  been 
assailed,  how  shouldst  thou  have  overcome  1  Without  a 
conflict  there  can  be  no  triumph,  no  victory — how  had 
thy  power  been  manifested  if  no  antagonist  had  waged 
war  against  thee  1  The  first  man  is  of  the  earth,  earth- 
ly— the  second  man  is  the  Lord  from  heaven — the  first 
was  tempted,  and  he  was  subdued — the  second  was 
tempted,  and  overcame.  How  boldly  then  may  we  ap- 
proach the  throne  of  grace  to  obtain  mercy,  and  fin«J 
grace  in  time  of  need  ]  We  have  not  a  Savior  who 
cannot  be  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infii-mities  ;  but 
was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin. 
Lord,  in  viewing  thy  conflict  with  thine  adversary  we  see 
the  maimer  of  his  assault — we  see  how  he  is  resisted,  how 
be  is  overcome.    If  the  sins  to  which  he  tempts  us  are  of 


294  HALL  S    SCRIPTURE    HISTORY. 

the  most  atrocious  nature,  we  remember  that  thou  wast 
solicited  to  infidehty,  to  covetousness,  to  idolatry.  Being 
troubled  on  every  side,  we  are  not  perplexed — being  per- 
secuted, we  are  not  in  despair.  How  glorious  was  it  for 
thee  therefore,  O  Savior,  how  happy  for  thy  servants,  that 
thou  wert  tempted  ! 

But  whither,  O  blessed  Jesus,  didst  thou  go  to  encounter 
thine  adversary  and  ours  ]  That  the  glory  of  thy  victory 
might  be  gi-eater,  thou  didst  retire  into  the  waste  howling 
wilderness,  the  haunt  of  wild  beasts,  a  scene  of  horror  and 
desolation.  There  didst  thou  remain  during  the  space  of 
forty  days,  fasting,  solitary,  exposed  to  the  various  attacks 
of  the  malicious  enemy.  The  time  of  thy  ligorous  absti- 
nence corresponded  with  that  of  thy  great  forerunners, 
Moses  and  Elias.  At  the  accomplishment  of  the  law  and 
the  promulgation  of  the  Gospel,  thou,  the  Redeemer  of 
mankind,  thoughtest  fit  to  fast  forty  days  and  forty  nights, 
that  (by  an  act  designed  for  our  wonder,  rather  than  our 
precise  imitation)  thou  mightest  teach  us  how  to  invest 
ourselves  with  spiritual  armor. 

He  who  would  suffer  death  for  our  sakes,  would  also 
suffer  hunger — in  the  fast,  he  manifested  his  mighty  pow- 
er— in  the  cessation  of  it,  the  truth  of  his  manhood.  Moses 
and  Elias,  through  the  miraculous  support  afforded  them 
from  above,  had  fasted  as  long  a  time — after  these  pre- 
cedents the  Author  of  our  salvation  abstained  from  food 
till  he  deemed  it  expedient  to  prevent  all  cavils  against  the 
verity  of  his  human  nature.  To  prove  that  there  was  no 
difference  between  him  and  his  creatures  (save  only  that 
he  was  exempt  from  sin)  he  would  be  supported  with 
food — would  fast — would  hunger.  O  Savior,  why  should 
thy  children  be  discouraged  in  tlie  want  of  earthly  com- 
forts, when  they  behold  thee  thus  destitute  of  society,  and 
voluntarily  abstaining  from  sustenance  ? 

No  sooner  does  Christ  begin  to  suffer  hunger,  than  the 
adversary  is  at  hand  with  his  temptations.    Vainly  sup- 


CHRIST   TEMPTED.  296 

posing  that  he  has  espied  a  vulnerable  part,  he  commences 
his  assault  without  delay.  We  have  a  foe  no  less  vigilant 
than  malicious — one  who  will  watch  every  opportunity 
to  injure  us — one  who  will  not  forego  the  least  possible 
advantage.  How  should  we  guard  ourselves  against  this 
mighty  adversary  !  How  should  we  labor  for  our  own 
safety,  while  he  seeks  with  so  much  activity  to  effect  our 
destruction  ! 

Our  Savior  was  an  hungered — Satan  tempts  him  in 
respect  to  food — he  knew  that  this  was  not  the  mo- 
ment for  avarice  or  ambition  to  offer  their  illusions — he 
adapts  the  trial  to  the  circumstances — he  directs  the  wea- 
pons of  his  warfare  where*  they  are  most  likely  to  sink 
deep  into  the  soul. 

In  every  temptation  there  is  an  appearance  of  good, 
whether  it  respects  the  mind,  th-e  body,  or  the  estate.  The 
lust  of  the  flesh,  the  lust  of  the  eyes,  and  the  pride  of  life 
oppose  themselves  to  various  duties.  The  progenitor  of 
mankind  was  assaulted  by  these,  and  was  subdued — the 
Redeemer  was  tempted  by  them,  and  was  triumphant. 
The  stones  were  to  be  made  bread — the  guard  of  angeb 
was  to  be  presumed  on — the  kingdoms  of  the  world  and 
the  glory  of  them  were  to  be  purchased  by  apostacy  and 
profanation  ! 

Satan  was  not  a  stranger  to  the  record  God  had  given 
of  his  beloved  Son.  The  message  and  the  acclamations 
of  the  heavenly  host;  the  supernatural  light  of  the  star;  the 
homage  of  the  eastern  sages — the  testimony  of  more  than 
oiie  faithflil  servant  of  Grod — the  various  predictions  of  the 
inspired  prophets — all  these  were  present  to  his  mind. 
Yet  now,  beholding  the  object  of  his  jealousy  and  malice 
oppressed  with  hunger,  and  not  comprehending  how  such 
infirmities  were  consistent  with  his  Divine  nature,  he  pre- 
sumes to  approach  him  with  a  supposition,  in  itself  tlie 
grossest  of  all  calumnies — '*  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  (Jod." 
On  the  establishment  of  this  truth  nothing  less  depends 


296  hall's  scripture  history. 

than  the  eternal  salvation  of  mankind.  How  should  he 
have  ransomed  the  w^orld,  how  should  he  have  obliterated 
the  sentence  of  death,  how  should  he  have  reconciled  all 
things  to  himself,  whether  they  be  things  on  earth  or  things 
in  heaven,  had  he  been  otherwise  than  the  Son  of  God  1  To 
undermine  this  important  basis  of  our  faith  has  ever  been 
the  grand  object  of  our  spiritual  enemy — to  assert  and  to 
maintain   this  truth  must  ever  be  the   christian's  glory. 

There  is  nothing  more  common  with  our  spiritual  ene- 
my than  to  take  occasion  by  our  wants  to  move  us  to  sin. 
He  seeks  to  tempt  our  Savior  to  distrust  the  providence 
of  his  eternal  Father,  to  abuse  his  marvellous  powers,  to 
work  a  miracle  at  the  suggestion  of  hell.  It  had  been 
easy  for  thee,  blessed  Lord,  to  have  foiled  thine  adversary 
by  the  exertion  of  thine  omnipotence — but  thou  wouldst 
^•anquish  him  by  the  sword  of  thy  Spirit,  to  teach  us  how  to 
resist  and  overcome  the  powers  of  darkness.  Assisted  by 
this  Divine  armor,  we  may  also  be  victorious.  Nothing 
can  resist  an  assault  of  this  perilous  nature  but  the  revela- 
tion of  our  God.  Teach  me,  O  Lord,  the  way  of  thy  sta- 
tutes— O  take  not  the  word  of  thy  truth  utterly  out  of  my 
mouth.  Let  thy  testimonies  be  my  delight  and  my  coun- 
sellors— let  those  be  my  songs  in  the  house  of  my  pilgrim- 
age ;  so  shall  I  make  answers  unto  my  blasphemers — for 
my  trust  is  in  thy  word. 

Our  Savior  shows  the  tempter,  from  the  highest  of  all  au- 
thority, that  his  suggestions  are  unfounded — that  man  lives 
not  merely  by  his  daily  food,  but  by  eveiy  word  that  pro- 
ceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  God  ;  who  can  either  support 
his  creatures  without  bread,  or  give  it  them  by  miracle,  or 
multiply  miraculously  that  which  is  given.  All  things  are 
sustained  by  that  almighty  word  which  created  them.  We 
live  by  bread,  but  God  makes  it  the  means  of  our  preser- 
vation— through  his  providence  alone  it  affords  us  nour- 
ishment. Should  he  withdraw  his  hand  from  his  creatures, 
they  would  langiiish  and  expire — in  the  midst  of  abuii- 


CHRIST    TEMPTED.  297 

clance  they  would  inevitably  perish.  **  When  thou  hidcst 
tliy  face  they  are  troubled — when  thou  takest  away  their 
breath  they  die  and  return  to  their  dust,"  Why  do  we 
turn  our  eyes  to  the  instrument  and  forget  that  graciovLS 
power  who  gives  it  eflicacy  1  Blessed  is  the  people  whose 
( fod  is  the  Lord  Jehovah — whom  he  hath  chosen  to  be  his 
inheritance.  Behold,  the  eye  of  the  Lord  is  upon  them 
that  fear  him,  and  upon  them  that  put  their  trust  in  hi« 
mercy,  to  deliver  their  souls  from  death,  and  to  feed  them 
in  time  of  famine. 


62.— CHRIST    TBMl?TED,—co?iliHucd. 

In  the  first  assault  the  enemy  of  mankind  moved  our 
Savior  to  doubt  his  Father's  providence,  and  to  use  uii- 
lawful  means  for  the  support  of  nature— izt  the  next,  he 
tempts  him  to  presume  on  his  Father's  protection,  and  the 
service  of  his  blessed  angels.  It  is  not  one  repulse  which 
discountenances  this  bold  and  unweaiied  opponent — if 
we  cannot  be  sunk  into  despair  he  seeks  to  lift  us  up  to 
aiTOgance  and  pride.  Temptations,  like  waves  of  the  sea, 
follow  each  other"  in  rapid  succession.  While  we  are  in 
this  warfare  we  must  not  expect  a  respite  when  it  was  de- 
nied to  the  Captain  of  our  salvation, 

O  Savior,  the  wilderness  was  fitted  for  a  trial  arising 
from  want — when  thine  adversary  would  solicit  thee 
to  vain-glory,  he  carried  thee  to  the  pinnacle  of  tlie 
temple.  There,  not  ashamed  to  stand  by  thee,  lie  presum- 
ed to  address  thee  in  words  like  these — "  Thou  didst  re- 
fuse to  depend  on  aught  save  the  bounty  of  thy  Father 
with  respect  to  thy  food — thou  wouldst  be  sustained  by 

13* 


298  hall's  scripture  history. 

his  power  rather  than  thine  own — I  now  call  on  thee,  if 
thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  to  make  further  trial  of  his  pro- 
vidence, and  to  challenge  the  ministry  of  his  angels  for 
thy  miraculous  preservation.  Cast  thyself  down  headlong 
from  this  height.  Behold,  thou  art  here  In  Jemsalem,  the 
great  and  holy  city — thou  art  on  the  highest  pinnacle  of 
that  temple  which  is  dedicated  to  thy  Father,  and  (if  thou 
partakest  of  his  Divine  nature)  to  thyself  Thou  canst  not 
devise  a  more  compendious  method  of  extending  thy  glo- 
ry, and  making  proclamation  of  thy  Godhead.  The  eyes 
of  all  men  will  be  upon  thee.  All  the  world  will  adore 
thy  power  and  bow  to  thine  omnipotence.  Does  the  dan- 
ger appal  thee  ]  What  can  hurt  him  who  is  the  Son  of 
God  1  To  what  purpose  art  thou  suiTounded  by  attendant 
spirits,  who  are  commissioned  by  thy  Father  to  watch 
over  thee  and  keep  thee  ]  In  this  one  act  thou  wilt  assert 
thy  glory  without  prejudice  to  thy  security.  Rely  on  thy 
Father,  and  on  the  guardianship  of  his  angels — Cast  thy- 
self down." 

O  thou  malignant  Spirit,  why  did  not  the  presumptuous 
hand  which  raised  the  Savior  of  mankind  to  that  giddy 
height,  itself  precipitate  him  thence  ]  Was  it  tliat  thou 
soughtest  the  destmction  not  of  his  sacred  body,  but  of 
his  soul  1  Or  was  thy  power  restrained  by  an  almighty 
arm  from  being  subsei-vient  to  thy  malice  1  He  who 
had  permitted  thee  to  lift  him  up,  forbade  thee  to  cast 
him  down.  Wo  to  us,  if  thy  destructive  fury  were 
uncontrolled  !  Blessed  be  his  name  who  hath  said  uiito 
thee,  as  to  the  raging  sea.  Hitherto  shalt  thou  come,  and 
no  further — and  here  shall  thy  pride  and  thy  malevolence 
be  stayed. 

How  many  faithful  servants  of  their  Master  are  called 
to  a  conflict  of  this  nature  with  the  enemy  of  their  salva- 
tion !  He  exalts  them,  that  their  fall  may  be  more  deadly  ; 
he  suggests  to  them  proud  ideas  of  their  own  merit  or  ho- 
liness, that  they  may  incur  the  displeasure  of  their  God. 


CHRIST    TEMPTED.  299 

Vv hilc  ilic  Failier  of  mercies  humbles  his  cliilJien  that 
he  may  bring  them  to  glory,  Satan  lifts  up  that  he  may  c^fct 
down,  and  in  tlieir  advancement  purposes  their  overthrow. 
Tliere  is  not  a  more  venomous  or  deadly  shaft  in  his  qui- 
ver than  this  encouragement  to  depend  on  our  infallible 
claim  on  the  Divine  favor.  *'  Thou  art  the  elected  and  re- 
deemed of  God — sin,  lx?cause  grace  hath  abounded — sin, 
that  it  maj/  abound.  Thou  art  safe,  though  thou  offend — 
be  not  a  foe  to  thine  own  liberty."  Alas,  is  it  a  j^roof  of 
liberty  that  we  transgi'ess  the  law  of  liberty  1  Is  not  this 
the  most  galling  of  all  servitude  ?  What  is  our  spiritual 
freedom  but  a  freedom  of  shi  1  O  thou,  whose  blessed  Son 
was  manifested  that  he  might  destroy  the  works  of  the  de- 
vil, and  make  us  children  of  God  and  heirs  of  eternal  life, 
teach  us,  having  this  precious  hope,  to  jiurify  ourselves 
even  as  he  is  jiurc.  We  are  bought  with  a  price,  let  us 
glorify  God  in  our  body  and  in  our  spirit,  which  are  God's. 
Let  a  sense  of  our  adojition  lead  us  to  reverence  and  obey 
thee — because  we  are  sons,  let  us  not  cast  ourselves  doAvn 
into  sin. 

But  in  what  language  docs  Satan  enforce  his  presum])- 
tuous  req\iest  1  "  It  is  written,  lie  shall  give  his  angels 
charge  over  thee  .'"  Let  no  man  wonder  to  hear  the  Scrip- 
tures quoted  by  hypocrites  and  false  pretenders  to  religion, 
when  the  prince  of  darkness  himself  endeavors  to  pervert 
ihem  to  his  purpose.  Still,  the  word  is  holy,  and  the 
commandment  holy,  and  just,  and  good.  Shall  we  abstain 
from  our  necessary  food  because  instances  have  occurred 
wherein  it  has  been  made  a  vehicle  for  deadly  poison  ? 
It  is  not  the  letter  of  the  Scriptures,  but  the  spirit,  which 
is  proper  for  doctrine,  for  instruction  in  righteousness — if 
we  separate  the  one  from  the  other,  we  profane  that  word 
no  less  than  Satan  did.  Behold  that  apostate  spirit  con- 
verted into  an  angel  of  light !  behold  him  veiling  his  mur- 
derous purpose  under  a  mask  of  holiness  !  If  hypocrisy 
Kecks  to  deceive  with  an  afft^ctation  of  zeal  and  piety,  we 


300  hall's  scripture  history. 

see  from  whence  it  has  its  origin.  Alas,  how  many  souls 
are  endangered  by  the  abuse  of  that  word,  which  in  itself 
is  a  guide  to  salvation  1  O  God,  who  hast  given  us  light, 
grant  us  a  right  judgment  in  all  things,  that  we  may  per- 
ceive and  enjoy  the  light  thou  hast  aftbrded  us.  Teach  us, 
O  Lord,  the  way  of  thy  statutes,  and  we  shall  keep  them 
unto  the  end — we  shall  know  the  tiTith,  and  the  truth  shall 
make  us  free. 

O  false  application  of  that  most  sure  promise  by  which 
the  Father  of  mercies  speaketh  comfort  to  his  children  ! 
Yea,  Lord,  thou  wilt  give  thine  angels  charge  over  us. 
We  are  never  unattended — we  are  in  the  midst  of  a  guard, 
though  invisible,  yet  careful  and  mighty  to  protect  us. 
Though  the  world  insult  and  despise  us,  the  angels  of 
God  are  our  associates  and  our  defenders — no  walls,  no 
prisons  can  separate  them  from  us — they  go  down  into 
the  christian's  dungeon,  they  partake  of  his  exile — how 
can  he  either  fear  danger  or  complain  of  solitude,  when 
he  has  so  inseparable,  so  glorious  companions  ? 

The  blessed  Jesus  will  yet  have  recourse  to  Scripture, 
though  Satan  had  misapplied  it.  Lo,  he  takes  the  sword 
from  that  impious  hand  and  foils  him  with  his  o^^^l  wea- 
pons— "  It  is  written.  Thou  shalt  not  tempt  the  Lord  thy 
Gody  Wheresoever  the  oracles  of  truth  appear  to  be  in- 
volved in  difficulty,  that  difficulty  will  vanish  if  we  compai^e 
spiritual  things  with  spiritual.  "It  is  ti-ue,  O  Satan,  that 
God  hath  given  this  charge,  and  that  his  holy  angels  have 
undertaken  it.  He  will  preserve  his  children,  but  not  in 
their  sins — they  may  trust  him,  they  may  not  tempt  him — 
he  seeks  to  encourage  their  faith,  not  their  presumption. 
To  cast  ourselves  on  any  immediate  providence,  when  we 
have  the  ordinaiy  means  of  safety,  is  to  disobey,  not  to 
believe  in  God.  We  may  rely  on  what  he  has  promised  ; 
but  we  must  not  subject  his  promises  to  our  capricious 
inclinations — fully  assured  of  his  power,  his  justice,  his 
mercy,  we  have  recourse  to  them  in  time  of  need,  but  we 


CHRIST    TEMPTED.  301 

do  not  make  trial  of  them  to  gi'atify  our  vain  devices." 
All  the  ingenuity  of  Satan  could  not  elude  the  force  of 
this  Divine  answer — he  no^v  sees  how  vainly  he  had  tempt- 
ed Christ  to  spiritual  pride. 

Yet  again  do  we  behold  him  (as  not  despairing  of  the 
victory)  endeavoring  to  shake  the  constancy  of  the  Son 
of  God  by  the  offer  of  earthly  dignity.  He  could  neither 
move  him  to  distrust  nor  presumption — but  he  has  other 
anows  within  his  quiver.  If  we  are  not  victorious  in  all 
our  conflicts  with  the  adversary,  it  is  in  vain  that  we  plume 
ourselves  on  any  partial  triumph. 

From  the  pinnacle  of  the  temple  our  Savior  is  suddenly 
transported  to  an  exceeding  high  mountain.  That  which 
Balak  had  once  done  by  his  instigation,  Satan  himselt 
attempts — he  seeks,  by  frequent  change  of  place,  to  attain 
the  object  of  his  wishes.  If  retirement  will  not  move  us, 
we  are  called  into  public  life — if  we  escape  this  danger, 
we  arc  thrown  once  more  into  solitude — no  place  is  free 
from  his  malice — none  should  be  made  prejudicial  by  our 
nco-lifrence. 

o    o 

The  kingdoms  round  about  Judea  were  represented  to 
the  eye  of  our 'Savior — the  glory  of  them  to  his  imagina- 
tion. **  Where  wouldst  thou  look  for  pomp,  or  majesty, 
or  pleasure,  in  comparison  with  the  courts  of  kings  ] 
There  is  gorgeous  apparel,  honorable  attendance,  royal 
state — there  are  lich  jewels,  sumptuous  feasts,  magnifi- 
cent triumphs.  Will  not  these  aw^aken  thine  ambition  1"  O 
false  and  treacherous  deceiver !  How  artfully  is  all  the 
care  attendant  on  exalted  stations  concealed  from  the 
^  iew,  while  every  thing  is  brought  forward  which  can  al- 
lure or  captivate  ]  Thus  is  it  ever  his  fatal  policy  to  varnish 
over  his  temptations.  Might  they  be  viewed  in  their 
genuine  colors,  in  vain  should  he  attempt  to  prevail. 
Now,  when  he  solicits  us  to  evil,  he  conceals  the  stings 
of  conscience,  the  wrath  of  God,  the  teiTor  of  judgment, 
the  mansions  of  soitow — nothing  appears  to  the  eye  but 


302  HALL'S    SCRIPTURE    HISTORY. 

plcTisurc,  profit,  and  a  seeming  happiness  in  tlie  enjo}^l•lent 
of  our  desires — he  reserves  those  objects  of  wo  for  our 
later  hours,  when  he  who  had  been  once  a  parasite  be- 
comes a  tp-ant,  and  makes  us  know  and  feel  how  evil  and 
bitter  a  thing  it  is  to  dejjart  from  the  living  God. 

But  who  shall  paint  the  presumption  which  dared  ap- 
proach the  Son  of  God  with  the  specious  promise,  "  Al! 
these  things  will  I  give  thee  if  thou  \\'ilt  fall  dovrn  and 
worship  me  ?-"  On  what  base,  what  vile  conditions  does 
the  accursed  spint  offer  the  whole  world  to  the  JMaker  of 
it !  With  what  effrontery  does  he  promise  kingdoms  to 
the  Lord  of  lords,  if  he  may  but  be  adored  by  the  gTcat 
object  of  adoration  in  heaven  and  earth  !  O  Satan,  had 
thy  blasjihcmous  proposition  been  complied  -with,  how 
wouldst  thou  have  accomplished  thy  w^ord  ?  Not  by  thee, 
but  by  the  Almighty,  do  kings  reign,  and  princes  decree 
justice.  The  powers  that  be  are  ordained  of  God.  Thine 
assertion  was  no  less  false  than  sacrilegious.  What  but 
deception  can  be  looked  for  from  the  father  of  lies  !  Fi- 
delity and  truth  are  the  progeny  of  heaven.  Faithful  is 
He  that  hath  promised,  who  also  will  do  it. 

The  blessed  Jesus,  who  with  respect  to  his  Divine  na- 
ture thought  it  not  robbery  to  be  equal  with  God,  could 
not  without  just  indignation  hear  of  this  impious  rival- 
ship.  Nor  yet  does  he  have  recourse  to  his  unconti'olable 
power,  that  he  may  drive  away  the  malignant  spirit — he 
repels  him,  not  by  the  thunder  of  his  -WTath,  but  bv  the  re- 
sistless force  of  holy  Scrijiture — *'It  is  written.  Thou  shall 
■worship  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  him  only  shalt  thou  servcP 
Here  was  no  place  for  reply,  no  room  for  evasion.  In  the 
shame  and  confusion  of  a  total  defeat,  the  adversary  of 
God  and  man  betakes  himself  to  flight,  and  hides  his  giiilty 
head  in  the  regions  of  darkness. 

We  cannot  be  delivered  from  the  importunate  solicita- 
tions of -that  wicked  one,  but  by  continued  resistance.  He 
who  thus  triumphed  over  the  malignity  of  Satan  will  also 


SIMON  PETER  CALLED.  303 

befriend  his  faithful  servants — he  will  strengthen,  he  will 
help,  he  will  ujjhold  thein  by  the  right  hand  of  his  power, 
lie  will  have  their  faith  and  their  constancy  exercised, 
but  he  will  not  give  them  over  unto  death.  In  that  he 
himself  hath  suffered,  being  tempted,  he  is  able  to  succor 
them  that  are  tempted. 

O  Lord,  in  thee  have  wc  trusted — let  us  never  be  con- 
founded. 


63.— SIMON    PETER   CALLED. 

The  conflict  with  the  powers  of  darkness  is  at  an  end, 
and  victory  hath  crowned  the  Son  of  God.  For  this  pur- 
pose was  he  manifested,  that  he  might  destroy  the  works 
of  the  devil.  O  sing  unto  the  Lord,  for  he  hath  triumphed 
gloriously  !  Thou  didst  arise,  O  Savior,  and  thine  enemies 
were  scattered — they  also  which  hated  thee  fled  before 
thee.  Like  as  the  smoke  vanislieth,  so  didst  thou  drive 
them  away — like  as  wax  melteth  at  the  fire,  so  did  they 
disappear  from  before  the  presence  of  God.  Now  does 
thy  heavenly  Father  remove  thine  hunger  by  a  supply  of 
celestial  food.  Those  holy  angels  (on  whose  miraculous 
aid  thou  didst  refuse  to  presume  by  rushing  into  unneces- 
sary danger)  now  approach  with  songs  of  congi'atulation. 
They  celebrate  thy  first  triumph,  the  prelude  to  other  and 
greater  glories.  Salvation,  and  strength,  and  the  kingdom 
of  our  God,  and  the  power  of  his  Christ  even  now  begin 
to  appear — even  now  is  the  accuser  of  the  brethren 
taught  to  expect  his  future  and  final  overthrow.  With 
what  transports,  O  Lord,  did  the  blessed  children  of  light 
set  forth  thy  praises  !  How  did  tlioy  deem  themselves  in- 
vested with  an  increase  of  glory  and  felicity,  when  they 
were  commissioned  to  minister  to  their  Creator  ! 


304  fiall's  scripture  history. 

Encouraged  and  succored  by  heaven,  unconquered  }>y 
all  the  malice  of  hell,  our  Savior  goeth  forth  in  the  strength 
of  the  Lord  God.  He  is  fully  prepared  for  that  great  and 
mighty  work  to  which  his  own  mercy  and  the  will  of  his 
eternal  Father  had  ordained  him.  The  voice  of  him  that 
ciied  in  the  wilderness  was  heard  there  no  longer.  Al- 
ready was  the  gi'eat  fore-runner  of  the  ^Messiah  cast  into 
prison  by  the  jealousy  of  a  cruel  tyrant,  who  afterwards 
spared  not  his  life.  From  that  time  Jesus  began  to  preach, 
and  to  say,  **  Repent  ye,  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at 
hand!" 

He  who  had  been  *'  seen  of  angels,"  will  now  select  his 
chosen  followers  from  among  mankind,  as  ministers  and 
eye-witnesses  of  the  word.  Neither  the  great  nor  the  hon- 
orable, nor  the  learned,  nor  the  mighty,  are  called.  The 
nobles  and  sages  of  Judea  must  resign  this  distinguished 
privilege  to  the  humble  fishermen  of  Galilee. 

As  the  sun  at  its  first  rising  attracts  all  eyes  by  its  radi- 
ance, so  did  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  when  he  first  shone 
forth  into  the  world.  His  miraculous  cures  brought  pa- 
tients— his  heavenly  doctrine  brought  auditors — both  uni- 
ted to  call  together  the  admiring  multitude.  Why  do  we 
not  still  follow  thee,  O  Savior,  whithersoever  thou  goest, 
that  we  may  be  healed,  that  we  may  be  instructed  1  It 
was  thine  own  prediction,  that  when  thou  wert  lifted  up, 
thou  wouldst  draw  all  men  unto  thee.  Long  since  thou 
hast  been  lifted  up  as  a  sacrifice  for  our  sins  on  thy  cross 
— as  the  only  begotten  Son  of  God  on  the  throne  of  thy 
glory.  Thy  word  is  still  the  same — it  is  equally  effica- 
cious to  enlighten  the  understanding  and  to  remove  the  dis- 
eases of  the  soul.    "  Draw  us,  and  we  shall  run  after  thee." 

The  people  not  only  follow  Christ,  but  press  upon  him 
— delighted  with  his  sacred  word,  they  importunately 
throng  around  the  speaker — they  would  not  lose  one  ac- 
cent which  may  fall  from  his  Hps.  Yet  doth  not  our  Sa- 
vior check  thie  boldness  of  their  zeal,  but  rather  encoura- 


SIMON  PETER  CALLED.  305 

gea  and  applauds  it.  That  the  kingdom  of  heaven  should 
be  sought  after  with  earnestness,  disj^leases  not  him  who 
speaketh  unto  every  one  of  us  in  the  tender  language  of 
a  Father,  "My  son,  give  me  thine  heart !" 

Meanwhile  the  increasing  multitude  of  auditors  con- 
strains him  to  leave  the  shore,  and  to  instruct  them  from 
a  small  ship  which  was  Simon's,  stationed  on  the  adjoining 
lake.  His  Divine  power,  which  had  made  the  sea  and 
the  dry  land,  causes  both  to  contribute  to  the  benefit  of 
his  children. 

After  a  night  of  unsuccessful  labor  Simon  was  employ- 
ed in  washing  his  nets,  when  he  was  honored  with  the  pre- 
sence of  the  Savior  of  mankind.  The  fisherman,  who  had 
seen  the  people  flock  after  Christ,  who  had  heard  him 
speak  with  so  much  power,  could  not  but  conceive  a  gen- 
eral and  confused  apprehension  of  some  excellent  worth 
in  such  a  teacher,  and  therefore  gladly  receives  into  his 
ship  this  Messenger  of  salvation.  A  mind  thus  disposed 
was  judged  not  unworthy  of  future  honor — already  is  Si- 
mon prepared  to  be  a  disciple  of  Christ — already  hath  his 
fervent  spirit  devoted  him  to  the  service  of  his  Redeemer. 

Blessed  Lord,  who  shall  fail  of  a  recompence  that  min- 
isters unto  thee  1  No  sooner  is  thy  seraion  ended,  than 
thou  commandest  the  admiring  fisherman  to  launch  forth 
into  the  deep,  and  let  down  his  nets  for  a  draught.  In  thy 
miracles  thou  wouldst  ever  improve,  not  counteract  the 
powers  of  Nature — thou  wouldst  meet  her  in  her  own 
bounds,  and  when  she  had  done  her  utmost,  wouldst 
supply  the  rest  by  thine  omnipotence.  The  same  power 
which  could  have  caused  the  waters  to  retire  and  leave 
their  treasures  on  the  sands  of  the  lake,  commanded  Si- 
mon to  launch  out  into  the  deep. 

Rather  in  a  desire  to  obey  and  gratify  the  prophet,  than 
in  hope  of  advantage  to  himself,  the  son  of  Jonas  obeys — 
had  Christ  enjoined  a  harder  task  he  would  not  have  re- 
fused— now,  though  he  had  spent  the  night  in  unprofita- 


306  hall's    scripture  history. 

ble  labor,  the  day  shall  witness  his  ready  compliance. 
Often  does  the  Divine  providence,  after  disappointing  our 
more  sanguine  expectations,  give  a  blessing,  at  a  time  and 
in  a  manner  we  dared  not  even  hope — '*  When  they  had 
so  done,  they  enclosed  a  great  multitude  of  fishes,  so  that 
their  net  brake." 

Who  would  not  obey  thee,  blessed  Lord,  since  thou 
dost  so  bountifully  requite  our  weakest  services  ?  Yet 
didst  thou  not  merely  intend  retribution  in  this  event ; 
thou  hadst  in  view  the  instruction  of  thy  convert.  The 
act  itself  was  not  without  its  spiritual  signification.  He 
v/ho  should  be  made  a  fisher  of  men,  in  this  draught  fore- 
sees his  success — '*  The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like  a  net 
cast  into  the  sea,  which,  when  it  is  full,  men  draw  to  land,'* 
No  sooner  does  Simon  Peter  the  apostle  preach  Jesus  and 
the  resurrection,  (after  the  descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit  up- 
on his  head,)  than  three  thousand  souls  are  added  to  the 
church  of  Christ.  O  powerful  voice  of  the  glorious  Gos- 
pel, which  can  draw  sinful  men  from  the  abyss  of  natural 
corruption  into  the  blessed  liberty  of  the  childTen  of  God  ! 
O  happy  souls,  who  when  they  hear  the  word  of  God, 
keep  it,  and  bring  forth  fruit  to  life  eternal ! 

Abundance  is  sometimes  as  troublesome  as  want — the 
net  of  Simon  is  broken  by  the  draught  of  fishes — but  he 
is  not  without  assistance  or  relief.  There  cannot  be  a 
duty  more  incumbent  on  mankind,  than  that  they  should 
help  each  other  in  all  honest  and  lawful  industry.  Where- 
fore hath  God  made  us  partners  and  associates,  while  on 
this  troublous  sea  of  mortality,  but  that  we  should  give 
and  receive  comfort  when  requisite,  that  we  should  love 
as  brethren,  that  we  should  rejoice  with  them  that  do  re- 
joice, and  weep  with  them  that  weep  1 

Simon  well  knew  that  this  draught  was  not  according 
to  the  laws  of  nature.  Without  regard  to  the  sudden  and 
unexpected  advantage,  he  falls  down  at  the  feet  of  Jesus 
— turns  his  eyes  from  the  act  of  the  Author — acknow- 


SIMON    PETER    CALLED.  307 

ledges  his  own  vileness,  and  our  Sarlor's  majesty — **  De- 
part from  me,  for  I  am  a  sinful  man,  O  Lord !"  O  Peter, 
thy  Lord  is  come  to  call  thee,  and  others,  by  thee,  unto 
blessedness — and  dost  thou  say,  "  Depart  from  me  !" 
Surely  it  was  the  voice  of  astonishment,  the  voice  of  hu- 
mility, the  voice  of  reverential  fear,  which  proceeded  from 
thy  grateful  lips.  Because  thou  art  a  sinner,  tl\ou  art  in 
need  of  a  Savior — because  thou  dost  acknowledge  thy  sin- 
fulness, Christ  delights  to  abide  with  thee,  and  will  re- 
ceive thee  into  his  more  immediate  favor.  Happy  is  that 
man  who  abases  himself  before  God.  O  blessed  disciple, 
thou  couldst  not  more  effectually  secure  the  privilege  af- 
forded thee,  than  by  this  meek  confession  of  un worthiness. 
God  resistetli  the  proud,  but  giveth  grace  unto  the  humble. 
Complain  of  thine  own  infinnities,  pour  out  thine  heart  to 
Him  who  knows  its  weakness,  and  thou  shalt  be  satisfied 
with  the  abundance  of  his  mercy.  He  whom  thou  lovest 
will  not  depart  from  a  contrite  spirit — **  Fear  not ;  I  will 
make  thee  henceforth  a  fisher  of  men." 

Lo,  this  humility  is  succeeded  by  an  apostleship — Si- 
mon pleads  no  longer  his  ignorance  or  insufficiency. 
Christ  hath  declared  that  his  gi-ace  shall  be  present  with 
his  servant,  and  what  he  hath  promised  he  is  able  to  per- 
form. Lord,  how  much  skill,  and  labor,  and  patience  is 
requisite  for  this  spiritual  calling  !  Who  can,  without  thine 
especial  aid,  discharge  it  to  thy  glory,  to  the  edification  of 
others,  and  to  his  own  everlasting  salvation  ]  All  things 
are  of  thee,  O  God :  give  thy  blessing  to  those  who  preach, 
and  to  those  who  heai'  thy  word — let  the  ministers  and 
stewards  of  thy  mysteries  so  prepare  and  make  ready  thy 
way,  by  turning  the  hearts  of  the  disobedient  to  the  wis- 
dom of  the  just,  that  at  thy  second  coming  to  judge  the 
world  we  may  be  found  an  acceptable  people  in  thy  sight, 
and  may  enter  into  the  joy  of  our  Lord.    Amen. 


308  hall's  scripture  history. 


64.— THE    MARRIAGE   IN   CANA. 

Our  blessed  Lord  would  now  *'  make  full  proof  of  his 
ministry."  The  draught  of  fishes,  which  had  brought  con- 
viction to  the  minds  of  those  immediately  concerned,  and 
had  increased  the  number  of  his  followers,  might  yet  have 
been  accounted  for  by  a  reference  to  natural  causes.  The 
Son  of  God  thought  it  good  to  manifest  his  glory  by  a  mi- 
racle evidently  beyond  the  powers  of  nature,  that  he  might 
confinn  the  faith  of  his  newly-called  disciples,  and  that  his 
works  might  bear  witness  that  the  Father  had  sent  him. 

And  was  this  thy  first  miracle,  O  Savior,  that  thou 
wroughtest  in  Cana  of  Galilee  ]  Hadst  thou  dwelt  thirty 
years  upon  earth  without  making  public  demonstration 
of  thine  omnipotence  ?  Did  thy  Divinity  so  long  remain 
shrouded  in  the  retirement  of  an  obscure  province  in 
Judea,  unknown  to  that  world  thou  earnest  to  redeem  ?- 
Wouldst  thou  so  long  restrain  the  patient  expectation  of 
those,  who  since  the  appearance  of  a  star  from  heaven  had 
waited  for  the  revelation  of  the  Messiah  1  Alas,  with  what 
pomp  of  ostentation  does  the  pride  of  mortals  display  their 
trivial  excellence,  while  thou,  who  didst  not  receive  the 
Holy  Spirit  by  measure,  art  content  in  thine  humble  sta- 
tion, and  concealest  that  power  which  made  the  world,  in 
one  of  the  cottages  of  Nazareth  !  Which  of  all  thy  mira- 
cles is  more  worthy  of  astonishment  than  this  demon- 
Btration  of  thy  humility  1 

Yet  while  thy  wisdom  thought  fit  to  withhold  the  mani- 
festation of  thyself  from  the  eyes  of  thy  countrymen,  thy 
blessed  mother  could  not  remain  in  ignorance.  From  the 
moment  of  thy  birth  she  had  kept  and  pondered  in  her 
heart  the  various  proofs  of  thy  pre-eminence  and  glory. 
No  doubt  the  long  season  of  thy  retirement  afforded  her 
more  convincing  evidence,  from  day  to  day,  that  thou  wert 
indeed  the  Chiist,  the  chosen  of  God. 


THE    MARRIAGE    IN    CANA.  309 

The  first  public  display  of  Christ's  almighty  power 
graceth  a  maiTiage.  It  is  an  ancient  and  laudable  custom, 
that  this  holy  lite  should  not  be  without  its  due  solemnity 
of  celebration.  He  who  gave  his  blessing  to  the  union  of 
our  first  parents  in  their  paradise,  bestows  his  first  miracle 
on  a  Galilean  marriage — he  who  authorized  and  sanctified 
the  nuptial  vow,  by  his  holy  presence  docs  honor  to  his 
own  ordinance.  Hapjiy  are  they,  who,  in  this  important 
act  of  their  lives,  place  their  best  hope  on  the  smiles  of  a 
gracious  God.  Thus  is  Christ  even  nov/  present  with  his 
faithful  servants — his  Spirit  his  gracious  benediction  come 
down  upon  his  altar,  and  hallow  the  resemblance  of  his 
eternal  union  with  his  church. 

It  was  no  rich  or  splendid  festival,  to  which  Christ  (with 
his  mother  and  his  disciples)  vouchsafed  to  come  from  the 
further  parts  of  Galilee — probably  some  of  the  kindred  of 
Mary  had  requested  of  our  Savior  to  bless  their  nuptials 
with  his  attendance.  We  find  him  not  at  the  magnificent 
banquets  or  sumptuous  triumphs  of  the  great — the  pride 
and  luxury  of  the  world  but  ill  agreed  with  the  lowly  con- 
dition he  had  chosen — he  is  present  where  the  poverty  of 
his  host  cannot  furnish  wine  enough,  even  at  a  bridal-feast. 
Mary,  in  charitable  compassion,  and  desire  to  maintain 
the  decency  of  hospitable  entertainment,  inquires  into  the 
necessities  of  her  friend,  pities  them,  and  will  at  least  en- 
deavor to  afford  them  relief  When  they  wanted  wine, 
the  mother  of  Jesus  saith  unto  him,  *'  They  have  no  wine." 
She  is  aware  of  the  necessitous  state  of  a  poor  Israelite, 
and  is  studious  to  remove  the  cause  of  his  anxiety.  If  our 
thoughts  are  solely  fixed  on  our  abundance,  or  even  on 
our  own  indigence,  to  the  neglect  of  others,  we  are  not 
worthy  to  be  called  by  the  name  of  our  Savior. 

To  whom  should  complaint  be  made  of  want,  but  to 
the  Maker  and  Giver  of  all  things  1  The  blessed  virgin 
knew  to  whom  she  sued  ;  she  was  not  unacquainted  either 
with  the  power  or  the  benignity  of  her  son.     No  doubt 


310  hall's  scripture  history. 

the  bridegi'oom,  who  "  dwelt  among  his  own  people," 
might  have  procured  among  his  friends  and  neighbors  an 
adequate  supply  for  the  remainder  of  the  feast ;  but  the 
liberal  fountain  of  every  good  was  present,  and  ready  to 
afford  that  requisite  assistance.  A¥hither  should  we  be- 
take ourselves,  blessed  Lord,  in  all  our  necessities,  but  to 
thine  infinite  munificence,  which  giveth  abundantly  to  all 
men  and  upbraideth  not  ]  We  cannot  want,  we  cannot 
abound,  but  with  thy  permission.  Give  us  what  thou  wilt 
— teach  us  to  be  contented,  and  thankful  for  that  which 
thou  gives t. 

Jesus  saith  unto  her,  '-Woman,  what  have  I  to  do  with 
thee  ?  mine  hour  is  not  yet  come."  Though  as  a  son  he 
was  in  subjection  to  his  earthly  parent,  he  was  still  the 
assertor  of  his  eternal  glory — neither  time  nor  method 
might  be  prescribed  to  him  for  any  act  of  his  omnipo- 
tence. Even  the  blessed  virgin  herself  must  be  admon- 
ished, lest  she  presume  on  her  natural  authority  by  having 
recourse  to  it  for  things  supernatural  and  divine.  He 
whose  mildness  and  condescension  never  dismissed  a  sup- 
pliant ungratified,  would  not  frown  on  her  who  bare  him  ; 
he  who  had  commanded  us  to  honor  and  revere  our  pa- 
rents would  not  himself  treat  his  mother  with  disdain. 
But  with  respect  to  his  heavenly  and  spiritual  nature,  it 
was  necessary  that  he  should  point  out  the  limits,  which 
no  mortal,  how  highly  favored  soever,  might  be  permitted 
to  exceed.  O  blessed  Mary,  if  in  thy  state  of  inefiable 
happiness  thou  dost  notice  what  is  2:>assing  here  below, 
how  dost  thou  pity  and  reject  the  presumptuous  supersti- 
tion of  vain  men,  whose  invocations  make  thee  a  solicitor 
for  blessings  from  above  !  How  falsely  they  do  assert  thy 
glory,  who  pay  thee  the  homage  which  belongeth  to  God 
only !  How  unwelcome  are  those  honors  which  are  sa- 
crilegiously taken  from  thy  Redeemer  and  ours,  the  great, 
the  only  Mediator  between  God  and  man  ! 

Even  on  that  just  and  necessary  rebuke  the  mother  of 


THE    MARRIAGE    IN    CANA.  811 

Jesus  can  build  a  foundation  of  hope.  If  the  hour  of 
Christ's  manifestation  of  himself  was  not  actually  come, 
it  was  not  therefore  far  distant :  when  the  expectation  of 
the  guests  and  the  necessity  of  the  occasion  have  prepared 
the  way  for  the  miracle,  it  shall  he  demonstrated  to  their 
joy  and  wonder.  While  she  hears  with  reverence  the 
words  of  her  Son,  she  directs  her  speech  to  the  attendants 
on  the  feast;  "Whatsoever  he  saith  unto  you,  do  it." 
Obedience  to  the  commands  of  Christ  is  a  fit  jircparation 
for  our  receiving  the  dispensations  of  his  bounty.  In  the 
present  instance,  as  in  all  others,  his  2)ower  was  indepen- 
dent of  his  creatures :  he  could  have  wrought  wonders 
had  they  refused  to  obey  him,  but  their  contumacy  and 
pervcrseness  might  have  prevented  his  miraculous  favors. 
He  who  by  his  gi'ace  enlightens  the  understanding,  will 
not  detract  from  the  value  of  his  gifts  by  subjecting  them 
to  the  blasj^hemous  scorn  of  the  obdurate  and  rebellious. 

In  the  guest-chamber  were  six  water-pots  of  stone, 
placed  there  for  the  jiurpose  of  outward  purification.  As 
if  sin  was  merely  external,  and  had  not  its  seat  in  the  in- 
most soul,  the  superstitious  Jews  imagined  holiness  to  con- 
sist in  frequent  ablutions.  Many  less  innocent  traditional 
ceremonies  had  been  engrafted  on  the  simplicity  of  their 
ancient  law.  Water  is  made  by  Christ  himself  the  em- 
blem of  washing  away  sin,  in  token  that  the  heart  must 
be  cleansed  if  we  would  find  acceptance  with  God;  and 
how  shall  this  be  effected  but  by  means  of  that  precious 
blood  which  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world  ]  Through 
the  all-powerful  efficacy  of  this  fountain,  opened  for  sin 
and  for  uncleanness,  O  Lord,  renew  a  right  spirit  witliin 
us ;  wash  us,  and  we  shall  be  whiter  than  snow  ! 

The  attendants  hear  with  astonishment  the  command 
of  Jesus  to  fill  the  water-pots  with  water.  But  the  in- 
junctions of  Mary,  and  their  own  sentiments  of  him  whom 
they  reverenced  as  a  projihet  and  teacher  of  righteous- 
ness, led  tlicm  to  obey  with  cheerfulness,  and  patiently  to 


312  HALL*S    SCRIPTURE    HISTORY. 

wait  the  issue.  O  Savior,  that  mighty  word  which  changed 
water  into  wine  could  at  once  have  caused  these  vessels 
to  overflow,  as  by  some  new  creation ;  but  in  all  thy  mi- 
racles thou  didst  gTound  thy  mighty  works  upon  former 
existences  :  thou  didst  multiply  the  bread — thou  didst 
cause  the  pool  of  Siloam  to  bring  sight  to  the  blind — thou 
didst  restore  the  withered  limbs.  In  the  present  instance 
thou  didst  that  instantaneously  which  thine  ordinary  pro- 
vidence accomplishes  by  insensible  degrees,  according  to 
the  laws  of  vegetable  nature.  Thy  bounty  bringeth  forth 
*'  grass  for  the  cattle,  and  herb  for  the  service  of  man — 
that  thou  mayest  bring  food  out  of  the  earth,  and  wine 
that  maketh  glad  the  heart  of  man,  and  bread  to  strengtli- 
en  man's  heart." 

How  liberal  are  the  provisions  of  Christ !  How  doth 
he  display  his  munificence,  his  power,  his  mercy  !  It  is 
our  sin  and  our  shame  if  we  abuse  his  favors  by  pervert- 
ing  them  to  the  purposes  of  riot  and  intemperance.  He 
is  ever  attentive  to  the  necessities  and  to  the  comfort  of 
his  creatures  ;  but  he  hath  commanded  no  man  to  do  wick- 
edly, neither  hath  he  given  any  man  license  to  sin.  Whe- 
thei'  we  eat  or  drink,  or  whatever  we  do,  we  must  do  all 
to  the  glory  of  our  God. 

There  is  a  marriage  to  which  wc  are  all  invited,  and 
wherein  we  are  all  most  nearly  interested ;  there  shall 
we  not  be  guests  only,  but  shall  be  "betrothed  to  our  God 
in  truth  and  righteousness."  The  sound  shall  go  out  into 
all  lands,  "  Behold,  the  bridegroom  cometh,  go  ye  forth  to 
meet  him  !"  Even  so  come.  Lord  Jesus.  In  thy  presence 
is  the  fulness  of  joy — at  thy  right  hand  there  is  pleasure 
for  evermore.  Blessed  are  they  who  are  called  to  the 
marriage-supper  of  the  Lamb.    Amen, 


THE    GOOD    CENTURION. 


G5.— THE    GOOD    CENTURION. 

How  vast,  how  extensive  were  the  mercies  of  redeem- 
ing love  !  With  what  gi*acious  condescension  did  the  Sa- 
vior of  mankind  receive  those  who  came  to  him  without 
any  prejudice  or  partial  exclusion !  Of  a  truth,  O  God, 
thou  art  no  respecter  of  persons.  In  every  nation  he  that 
feareth  thee  and  worketh  righteousness  is  accepted  in  thy 
sight.  For  he  is  not  a  Jew  who  is  one  outwardly,  neither 
is  that  circumcision  which  is  outward  in  the  flesh ;  but  he 
is  a  Jew  who  is  one  inwardly ;  and  circumcision  is  that 
of  the  heart,  in  the  spirit  and  not  in  the  letter — whose 
praise  is  not  of  men,  but  of  God. 

Even  the  bloody  trade  of  war  afforded  disciples  to  the 
Prince  of  Peace.  Amidst  the  Roman  legions  was  found 
one  who  did  homage  to  that  Jesus  whom  so  many  Jews 
despised.  If  this  centurion  was  an  alien  by  birth,  he  wa3 
in  disposition  an  Israelite  indeed;  he  loved  the  nation 
which  was  chosen  of  God,  and  patronized  the  established 
worship,  to  which  he  was  himself  no  mean  benefactor. 
The  brave  and  loyal  servant  of  Caesar  builds  a  sjmagogue 
to  the  honor  of  Jehovah. 

Desirous  of  procuring  (in  behalf  of  a  faithful  domestic) 
the  benefit  of  those  miraculous  powers  which  already 
caused  the  fame  of  Jesus  to  be  diffused  throughout  all 
Judea,  the  centurion  approaches  our  ever-blessed  Savior. 
He  comes  with  no  rude  or  importunate  application,  but 
in  all  the  meekness  of  an  humble  suppliant.  He  avails 
himself  of  the  intercession  of  his  friends  before  he  offers 
his  petition  in  person :  the  elders  of  the  Jews  readily 
state  the  merits  and  pretensions  of  this  zealous  proselyte, 
and  request  oui'  Lord's  benevolent  assistance.  Meanwhile 
the  pious  Roman,  to  avoid  all  imputation  of  negligence, 
seconds  their  efforts  with  his  own.  Cold  and  fruitless  aie 
the  exertions  of  others,  if  our  lips  are  silent  where  it  most 

Script.  Hist.  14 


314  hall's    SCRIPTUItE    HISTORY. 

becomes  us  to  speak.  Alas  !  did  we  but  address  God  for 
our  own  souls  with  that  fervency  wherewith  the  centurion 
sought  relief  for  this  his  servant,  when  would  our  peti- 
tions fail  of  success  ?  But  what  marvel  is  it  if  God  refuse 
to  grant  us  his  spiritual  blessings,  when  we  refuse  to  en- 
treat for  them  at  all,  or  solicit  them  with  cold  and  care- 
less indifference  ?  We  have  not,  because  we  ask  not ;  we 
ask,  and  we  receive  not,  because  we  ask  amiss. 

Various  were  the  characters  and  situations  of  those 
who  resorted  to  Christ,  imploring  his  charitable  aid.  One 
besought  him  for  a  son,  another  for  a  daughter ;  here  a 
good  and  liberal  master  offers  his  earnest  supplications  in 
favor  of  his  servant  stricken  with  the  palsy.  He  first, 
with  the  tenderest  compassion,  provides  all  things  for  the 
sufferer's  relief  and  comfort  under  his  own  roof,  and  then 
seeks  to  the  Savior  of  mankind  in  humble  but  earnest  en- 
treaty;  "  Lord,  my  servant  lieth  at  home,  sick  of  the  palsy, 
grievously  tormented."  Had  the  master  been  sick,  the 
most  faitliful  servant  could  not  have  done  more.  He  is 
unworthy  of  the  benefits  which  arise  from  the  services  of 
those  beneath  him,  vdio  is  unwilling  to  recompense  those 
services  by  a  generous  protection  and  patronage.  An  ima- 
ginaiy  superiority  must  not  lead  us  to  neglect  the  duties 
of  christian  charity ;  w^hile  we  behold  our  servants  on 
earth,  we  must  remember  that  we  have  a  Master  in  heaven. 

O  that  exery  penitent  and  faithful  heart  would  approach 
the  Author  of  life,  and  earnestly  implore  his  assistance ! 
"  Lord,  my  soul  is  giievously  tonnented  by  unbelief — by 
self-love — by  vain  and  inordinate  desires."  It  were  unne- 
cessary to  say  more.  The  mercy  of  God  would  need  no 
further  entreaty,  but  would  cheer  the  suppliant  in  the  gia- 
cious  lano^uao^e  wherewith  our  Savior  addressed  this  Ro- 
man  proselyte — "  I  will  come,  and  I  will  heal." 

Blessed  Lord,  what  thou  didst  promise  to  one  thou  hast 
performed  in  behalf  of  all.  We  were  sick  unto  death ; 
our  sins  had  taken  hold  on  us,  and  the  life  of  grace  was 


THE    GOOD    CENTURION.  315 

gone.  Thou  didst  behold  us  from  heaven,  and,  having 
found  a  ransom,  thou  earnest  dow^n  into  this  miserable 
world,  and  in  thine  own  person  didst  vouchsafe  to  heal 
us.  We  shall  not  die,  but  live,  and  declare  thy  works,  O 
Lord.  O  teach  us  to  praise  thee  aright  for  that  admirable 
mercy  which  thus  abased  thee,  that  so  our  humility  may 
imitate  thy  condescension — that  a  sense  of  our  own  un- 
worthiness  may  lead  us  to  form  a  just  estimate  of  the 
wonders  of  love  ! 

Christ  would  go  down  and  visit  the  sick  servant :  the 
master  of  that  servant  saith,  "  Lord,  I  am  not  worthy  that 
tliou  shouldst  come  under  my  roof."  The  Jewish  elders 
who  had  mediated  for  him  dwelt  on  his  merits  ;  when  he 
comes  to  plead  for  himself  he  confesses,  "  I  am  not  wor- 
thy." They  saw  in  him  one  in  authority,  a  founder  of  a 
synagogue,  a  patron  of  religion ;  he  waves  all  these  spe- 
<;ious  j^reteusions,  and  says,  *'  A^as !  Lord,  I  am  not  worthy. 
I  am  a  Gentile,  an  alien,  a  man  of  blood ;  thou  art  holy — 
thou  art  all-powerful."  True  humility  teaches  us  to  esteem 
the  perfections  of  others,  and  to  set  no  immoderate  value 
on  our  own.  Pride,  on  the  contrary,  shows  us  nothing 
but  matter  of  admiration  in  ourselves— of  contempt  in 
those  around  us.  While  the  good  centurion  thinks  thus 
meanly  of  himself,  his  exalted  faith  teaches  him  to  think 
aright  of  our  blessed  Savior's  omnipotence  ;  *'  Speak  the 
word  only,  and  my  servant  shall  be  healed."  Nothing  but 
a  Divine  power  is  unlimited ;  that  power  is  committed  by 
the  Father  to  the  Son.  At  thy  word,  O  Jesus,  our  sins 
shall  be  forgiven — our  souls  shall  be  healed — our  bodies 
shall  be  raised  from  the  grave — our  whole  man  shall  be 
translated  to  life  everlasting. 

Whereupon  was  the  steady  confidence  of  this  centurion 
grounded  1  He  saw  how  powerful  his  own  word  was 
with  those  under  his  command,  the  force  whereof  extend- 
ed even  to  absent  performances  ;  well,  therefore,  might  he 
argue,  that  if  a  mere  mortal  found  such  ready  obedience 


316  hall's  scripture  history. 

paid  to  his  commands,  the  most  obstinate  disease  must 
yield  to  the  sujDreme  power  of  the  Messiah,  Cheerful 
and  dihgent  service  had  obtained  for  the  sufferer  in  ques- 
tion the  favorable  care  of  a  benevolent  master.  Why  do 
we  forfeit  our  title  to  His  favor  to  whom  we  owe  all  sub- 
mission and  allegiance  !  Alas  !  when  he  commands  us  to 
*'  do  this,"  we  do  it  not — if  he  prohibits  us,  we  do  it.  He 
says,  "Go  from  the  world" — we  fly  to  it.  He  says, 
"  Come  unto  me  " — we  depart  far  from  him.  Alas  !  this 
is  not  service,  but  enmity.  How  can  we  look  for  favor, 
while  we  return  rebellion  ?  We  have  a  gracious  Master  : 
there  can  be  no  duty  of  ours  which  he  sees  not — which 
he  acknowledges  not — which  he  cro\\nis  not.  We  could 
not  but  be  happy  if  we  were  obedient. 

He  whose  Divine  grace  wrought  this  faith  in  the  cen- 
turion, api^roves  it,  not  without  expressions  of  wonder. 
When  he  first  framed  the  heaven  and  the  earth,  he  beheld 
with  pleasure  all  things  that  he  had  made ;  ^vith  equal 
pleasure  he  contemplates  the  graces  of  a  regenerate  heart. 
Our  wealth,  our  beauty,  our  wisdom,  our  learning,  our 
honor  may  make  us  accepted  by  men,  but  it  is  faith  only 
which  exalts  us  in  the  sight  of  God.  The  gloiy  of  the 
Roman  convert  is  the  shame  of  Israel.  Amidst  all  that 
once-favored  people  there  had  appeared  no  such  example 
of  virtue.  We  look  for  a  plenteous  harvest  where  the 
soil  has  received  diligent  cultivation ;  if  it  be  less  fruitful 
than  the  untilled  ground,  how  just  is  the  disappointment 
and  sorrow  of  the  husbandman  !  Our  blessed  Lord  with- 
holds not  this  testimony  from  the  people ;  he  utters  it  in 
their  ears,  that  he  may  at  once  awaken  their  shame  and 
emulation.  In  all  things,  save  those  of  a  spiritual  nature, 
our  self-love  makes  us  impatient  of  superiors,  and  even 
of  equals  ;  how  can  we  with  guilty  complacency  see  others 
overtake  us,  and  leave  us  at  a  distance,  in  the  path  which 
leads  to  heaven  ! 

Christ,  who  had  v\TOught  this  faith,  disdains  not  to  re- 


i 


THE    widow's    son    RAISED.  317 

ward  it :  **  Go  thy  way ;  and,  as  thou  hast  believed,  so  be 
it  done  unto  thee."  The  master's  piety  brings  liealth  and 
deliverance  to  the  servant.  His  cure  is  perfected  at  that 
very  hour.  O  Savior,  how  powerful  is  thine  intercession 
with  thine  almighty  Father !  What  can  we  want  while 
thou  art  a  Mediator  for  us  ]  In  thee  is  our  happiness,  our 
health,  our  salvation,  our  glory.  To  thee,  therefore,  O 
mighty  Redeemer  of  Israel,  with  the  Father  and  the  Holy 
Ghost,  one  God,  infinite  and  incomprehensible,  be  all 
praise,  and  honor,  and  adoration,  for  ever  and  ever.    Amen. 


66.— THE    WIDOW'S   SON   RAISED. 

In  what  rapidity  of  succession  were  the  favors  of  our 
beneficent  Savior  conferred  upon  mankind!  He  went 
about  doing  good,  and  healing  all  those  who  were  op- 
pressed by  sickness,  sorrow,  and  even  death  itself;  .for 
God  was  with  him.  No  sooner  has  he  called  the  centu- 
rion's servant  from  the  bed  of  languishing,  than  he  raises 
the  widow's  son  from  the  bier. 

The  fruitful  showers  are  not  ordained  to  fall  all  on  one 
field.  Nain  must  partake  of  the  bounty  of  Christ  as  well 
as  Cana  or  Capernaum.  The  sun  diffuses  light  and  glad- 
ness to  all  the  world.  The  Sun  of  Righteousness  does 
the  same. 

The  little  city  of  Nain  stood  near  Mount  Tabor,  under 
the  hill  of  Hermon,  whose  refreshing  dews  (celebrated 
by  the  sweet  Psalmist  of  Israel)  afforded  less  delight  than 
those  blessings  of  which  they  w^ere  significative — the  doc- 
trine and  miracles  of  our  Savior. 

As  our  Lord  approaches  the  city,  accompanied  by  a 
great  multitude  of  people  as  witnesses  of  his  power  and 


318  hall's  scripture  history. 

mercy,  he  beholds  the  mournful  procession  of  a  funeral. 
A  widow,  attended  by  her  weeping  neighbors,  is  follow- 
ing her  only  son  to  the  grave. 

There  was  nothing  in  this  spectacle  which  did  not  awa- 
ken compassion.  He,  whose  unbounded  pity  devoted 
itself  to  the  relief  of  all  mankind,  could  not  look  on  it 
without  the  tenderest  emotions.  Doubtless  his  own  sa- 
cred eyes  scarcely  refrained  from  tears,  while  he  enjoined 
the  disconsolate  mourner  to  cease  from  weeping.  A  youth, 
in  the  flower  of  his  age,  in  the  fulness  of  strength,  and 
vigor,  and  beauty,  torn  away  by  the  arm  of  death — what 
heart  is  so  insensible  as  to  be  unmoved  at  such  a  spectacle  ] 

But  here  was  an  aggravation  of  sorrow.  It  was  the 
only  son  of  his  mother  who  was  snatched  to  an  untimely 
gi'ave.  No  condition  whatever  can  make  it  otherwise  than 
grievous  to  a  parent  to  sustain  this  severe  visitation  of 
God;  reason  justifies,  religion  permits,  our  tears.  Yet 
surely  it  is  some  mitigation  of  sorrow,  when  we  can  turn 
our  eyes  to  those  living  objects  of  affection  whom  it  may 
please  the  Divine  mercy  to  continue  to  our  love.  How- 
ever we  may  lament  our  loss,  we  cannot  but  hope  that  it 
may  be  in  some  measure  supplied  by  the  survivors.  But 
if  all  our  joys  and  affections  are  centred  in  one, — when 
they  must  either  live  or  die  with  an  only  child, — that 
stroke,  if  it  take  place,  admits  of  no  earthly  consolation. 
When  God  would  describe  the  most  passionate  expression 
of  sorrow  that  can  befall  the  miserable,  the  voice  of  inspi- 
ration thus  addresses  a  wi-etched  people  :  "  O  daughter 
of  Jerusalem,  gird  thee  with  sackcloth,  and  roll  thyself 
in  ashes  ;  make  lamentation  and  bitter  mourning,  as  for 
thine  only  son  .'"  Such  was  the  loss,  such  the  soitow  of 
this  agonized  mother ;  neither  words  nor  tears  could  suf- 
fice to  do  it  justice. 

Alas  !  had  she  been  aided  by  the  counsel  and  support 
of  a  husband,  the  burden  had  seemed  less  intolerable. 
Then  might  she  have  poured  forth  her  anguish  into  a  fond 


THE    widow's    son    RAISED.  310 

and  faithful  bosom — she  would  not  have  borne  the  extre- 
mity of  the  conflict  alone ;  there  had  been  one  to  mode- 
rate the  frenzy  of  grief  or  to  enliven  its  torpid  melancholy. 
But  even  this  consolation  is  denied  her;  the  widowed 
mourner  looks  forward  to  nothing  on  this  side  the  grave 
but  solitary  wretchedness ;  all  her  hope,  her  happiness, 
lier  comfort,  the  stay  of  her  life  is  gone. 

And  now,  when  she  considers  herself  as  desolate  and 
forlorn,  as  a  wretch  past  all  capacity  of  redress  or  conso- 
lation, the  God  of  all  hope  beholds,  and  pities,  and  re- 
lieves her.  In  the  sight  of  all  the  people  will  he  give  a 
foretaste  of  that  blessed  day  when  he  shall  swallow  up 
death  in  victory — when  the  Lord  God  shall  wij^e  away 
all  tears  from  the  eyes  of  his  people. 

Here  was  no  solicitor  but  his  own  compassion  :  in  other 
cases  either  the  sufferer  in  person  or  some  tender  and 
sympathizing  friend  implored  his  mercy.  The  centurion 
besought  him  for  a  servant ;  the  ruler  for  a  son ;  Jairus 
for  a  daughter ;  a  company  of  charitable  friends  and  neigh- 
bors for  the  paralytic ;  now  Christ  himself  seeks  to  the 
mounier,  and  offers  his  all-powerful  and  unrequested  aid. 
The  Father  of  mercies  knoweth  our  frame ;  our  sorrows 
are  all  in  his  sight,  our  afflictions  are  the  most  powerful 
suitors  to  his  mercy.  No  tears,  no  lamentations  can  move 
him  so  much  as  his  own  Divine  commiseration.  O  God, 
none  of  the  distresses  of  thy  children  are  hidden  from 
thine  eyes,  none  are  absent  from  thine  heart — they  are  in 
the  book  of  remembrance  before  thee  ;  and  when  we  seem 
past  all  hope,  all  possibility  of  help,  then  art  thou  nearest 
to  us  for  deliverance. 

Concealment  does  not  remedy  but  aggravate  our  wo. 
When  the  Son  of  God  enjoins  this  sorrowing  mother  to 
refrain  her  voice  from  weeping,  and  her  eyes  from  tears, 
he  seems  to  her  as  demanding  what  humanity  itself  cannot 
comply  with.  Have  words  such  efficacy  as  to  dispel  this 
justly-founded  sorrow  ?   To  bid  her  not  weep  who  had 


320  hall's  scripture  history. 

lost  her  only  son,  was  to  persuade  her  to  be  miserable, 
and  not  to  feel  it — or  else  to  withhold  from  her  the  sad 
privilege  which  nature  hath  given  to  affliction.  But  that 
she  might  know  that  the  Son  of  Man  had  power  even  on 
earth  to  ransom  us  from  the  gi'ave,  he  saith  unto  those  life- 
less remains,  ''Young  man,  I  say  unto  thee,  Arise  !"  The 
Lord  of  life  and  death  speaks  with  authority ;  no  finite 
being  could  have  uttered  this  with  success — without  pre- 
sumption. This  is  the  voice  which  hereafter  shall  call  our 
vanished  bodies  from  those  elements  into  which  they  may 
have  been  resolved,  and  shall  raise  them  from  their  dust. 
The  deep  and  wide  sea  shall  give  up  her  dead — all  the 
fetters  of  our  mighty  erxemy  shall  not  detain  our  earthly 
tabernacles  when  God  shall  command  them  to  be  restor- 
ed. Why  doth  incredulous  nature  shrink  from  the  diffi- 
culty of  a  resurrection,  and  deem  it  impossible,  when  the 
God  of  nature  undertakes  it  1  It  is  as  easy  for  the  almighty 
word,  which  gave  being  unto  all  things,  to  say,  *'  Let  them 
be  renewed,"  as,  "Let  them  be  made !" 

Our  Savior  speaks  to  the  dead  as  if  he  were  alive,  and 
by  that  word  restores  him  to  life.  Death  has  no  power  to 
detain  that  man  whom  God  commands  to  **  Arise."  Im- 
mediately he  that  was  dead  sat  up.  So,  at  the  sound  of 
the  last  trumpet,  by  the  power  of  the  same  voice,  we 
shall  arise  out  of  the  dust,  and  stand  up  in  glory — this  cor- 
ruptible shall  put  on  incon'uption — this  mortal  immortali- 
ty. The  body  shall  never  perish — it  shall  be  sown,  that 
it  may  spring  up  with  increase  of  blessedness.  How  des- 
perate, how  miserable  would  be  our  lying  down,  if  it  were 
not  for  this  assurance  of  rising !  And  now,  lest  our  weak 
faith  should  stagger  at  this  gi'eat  mystery,  by  the  present 
he  gives  assurance  of  the  future.  The  power  which  can 
raise  one  man,  can  raise  a  thousand — can  raise  a  world : 
no  power  can  raise  one,  but  that  which  is  infinite — and 
how  shall  that  which  is  infinite  admit  of  limitation  ?  What 
state,  what  degi'ee  of  dissolution  shall  hinder  the  efficacy 


321 

of  this  supreme  command  1  The  daughter  of  Jairus  arises 
from  her  bed — the  youth  at  Naiu  from  his  bier — Lazarus 
from  his  gi-ave — the  saints  at  Jerusalem  from  their  dust. 
Turn  ye  to  the  strong-hold,  ye  prisoners  of  hope — He  that 
hath  the  keys  of  death  can  without  difficulty  pei-\'ade  even 
the  inmost  recesses  of  those  abodes  of  darkness. 

Behold  the  youth,  miraculously  awakened  from  his  dead- 
ly sleep,  opening  those  eyes  which  had  been  closed  in 
night — descending  from  the  bier — casting  himself  down, 
in  gi-atcful  transjjort,  at  the  feet  of  his  almighty  Deliverer 
— adoring  that  Divine  power  which  commanded  back  his 
soul  to  its  forsaken  mansion — uttering  words  of  praise  and 
wonder.  Our  Lord,  who  in  this  marvellous  act  had  pitied 
the  mother,  and  for  her  stike  had  raised  the  dead,  delivers 
him  into  the  hands  of  his  enraptured  parent.  Who  can 
paint  the  amazement  and  ecstasy  of  joy  which  diffused 
itself  through  the  soul  of  that  revived  mourner  when  her 
son  now  salutes  her,  as  from  another  world,  imparting  and 
receiving  congratulation  1  How  suddenly  were  all  the 
tears  of  that  mourning  train  exchanged  into  expressions 
of  joyful  astonishment !  How  soon  is  that  funeral  pomp 
turned  into  a  birthday  feast !  What  awful  and  admiring 
looks  were  cast  upon  that  Lord  of  life,  who  in  the  midst 
of  humility  had  approved  liis  omnipotence  !  How  gladly 
did  every  tongue  celebrate  both  the  work  and  the  Author ! 
**  A  gi'eat  prophet  is  risen  up  among  us,  and  God  hath 
visited  his  people."  As  yet  they  were  not  acquainted  with 
God  manifested  in  the  flesh.  This  miracle  might  well 
have  assured  them  that  he  whom  they  beheld  was  more 
than  a  propliet.  Hereafter  they  shall  be  taught  that  the 
prophet  who  was  now  raised  up  to  them  was  the  God 
who  now  visited  them  ;  even  that  God  who  in  the  last  day 
shall  display  the  same  power  to  them  and  all  the  world, 
which  he  had  now  displayed  in  their  sight — should  recall 
them  also  from  death  to  life — should  speak  to  every  one 
of  them,  "  I  say  unto  thee.  Arise !" 
14* 


322  hall's  scripture  history. 

67.— THE    RULER'S    SON    HEALED. 

Already  had  Cana  in  Galilee  received  abundant  demon- 
stration of  the  power  and  goodness  of  God.  There  the 
Savior  of  mankind  had  manifested  forth  his  glory,  and 
confirmed  the  faith  of  his  disci2:)]es  by  the  first  public  evi- 
dence of  his  mission.  Now^,  being  returned  to  the  same 
highly-favored  spot,  he  makes  it  the  scene  of  another 
stupendous  miracle,  different  in  its  nature,  but  equally 
decisive  with  the  former.  Before  he  graced  a  humble 
marriage  festival ;  now  he  sends  comfort  to  the  house  of 
mourning,  that  he  might  teach  us  whither  to  have  recourse 
in  the  hour  of  sorrow. 

How  doth  the  goodness  and  munificence  of  God  trans- 
cend that  of  man,  even  of  those  who  amongst  mortals 
are  most  loudly  celebrated  for  their  charitable  actions ! 
His  mercies  are  constant,  progressive,  infinite.  He  is  not 
weary  of  well-doing ;  his  blessings,  whether  we  consider 
their  number  or  their  magnitude,  are  beyond  our  imagi- 
nation to  conceive.  The  coasts  of  Galilee  already  resound- 
ed with  his  praises,  when  behold  !  other  and  yet  gi-eater 
wonders  call  for  new  demonstrations  of  gratitude.  Great 
and  marvellous  are  thy  works,  O  Lord  God  almighty; 
thou  hast  magnified  thy  name  and  thy  word  above  all 
things. 

Seldom  do  we  find  persons  of  exalted  station  attendant 
on  our  Lord ;  his  comjDanions,  his  friends,  his  disciples 
were  all  selected  from  among  the  poor  and  the  lowly  ;  but 
here  one  eminent  in  rank,  abounding  in  all  that  life  holds 
most  desirable,  is  a  petitioner  for  his  dying  son.  Earthly 
greatness  is  no  defence  against  afflictions.  Disease  and 
death  make  no  exception  in  favor  of  the  great ;  they  trem- 
ble not  when  they  assail  the  mighty.  Why  should  any 
complain  or  murmur  at  that  common  lot,  that  one  event, 
which  happeneth  unto  all  mankind  1 


THE    ruler's    son    HEALED.  323 

The  rumor  of  our  Savior's  return  from  Judea  into  Ga- 
lilee soon  reached  the  ears  of  the  anxious  father.  Many 
seek  to  Christ  in  the  day  of  their  necessity,  who  in  their 
prosj3erous  fortunes  were  the  followers  of  vanity,  the 
slaves  of  ambition.  Happy  was  it  for  this  man  that  he 
was  visited  by  the  hand  of  God ;  he  had  not  else  been 
made  acquainted  with  his  Savior — his  soul  had  continued 
in  ignorance  and  unbelief.  For  what  purpose  does  our 
heavenly  Father  send  us  pain,  sorrow,  disappointment, 
opposition,  but  that  we  may  throw  ourselves  into  his  arms 
for  comfort  ?  Whither  should  we  go  in  the  day  of  adver- 
sity, but  to  that  omnipotent  Being,  that  Physician  of  souls, 
who  healeth  all  our  infimiities,  that  we  may  hereafter  ex- 
claim with  joy,  "  It  is  good  for  us  that  we  were  afflicted  V* 

It  was  a  day's  jouniey  from  Capernaum  to  Cana  in  Ga- 
lilee. Thence  did  the  nobleman  come  to  our  blessed  Lord, 
to  entreat  him  that  the  fever  might  depart  from  his  son. 
How  prodigal  are  we  of  labor  in  our  researches  after  bo- 
dily health !  No  way  is  long,  no  fatigue  insupportable. 
Our  souls,  the  best  and  dearest  part  of  our  existence,  are 
oppressed  by  the  malignant  influence  of  unbelief  and  of 
self-love ;  we  are  aware  of  this,  and  yet  we  remain  in 
careless  insensibility  and  see  them  languish  unto  death. 

This  ruler  was  neither  faithless  nor  believing.  Had  he 
been  faithless,  he  would  not  so  eagerly  have  sought  after 
our  Savior.  Had  he  believed  aright,  he  would  not  have 
formed  so  inadequate  a  judgment  of  the  power  of  that 
"Word  which  is  every  where  present  and  efficacious.  As 
if  Christ  could  not  have  healed  his  child  unless  he  stood 
by  the  bed  of  languishing — as  if  he  could  not  have  re- 
called him  even  from  the  arms  of  death — "  Master,  come 
down,  ere  my  child  die  !" 

How  diiferent  was  the  Roman  centurion  from  this  Jew- 
ish ruler  !  The  one  came  for  his  servant,  the  other  for  his 
son.  The  son  is  above  the  servant,  but  the  faith  which 
made  intercession  for  the  latter  far  excelled  that  which 


324  hall's  scripture  ihstory. 

approached  our  Lord  in  behalf  of  the  former.  The  one 
exclaims,  "  Lord,  come  not  under  my  roof,  for  I  am  not 
worthy — but  speak  the  word,  and  my  servant  shall  be 
healed  " — the  other  insinuates,  **  Come  under  my  roof, 
or  my  son  cannot  be  made  whole."  Shall  not  he  then 
prescribe  to  us  in  what  manner  he  will  impart  his  favors  1 
Shall  we  presumptuously  limit  him  to  one  certain  system 
of  conferring  blessings  on  us  ?  How  shall  the  all-wise 
God  endure  to  be  dictated  to  by  his  creature  ]  "  Give  us 
that  which  is  needful  for  our  souls  and  bodies  "  is  a  wise 
and  lawful  prayer — but  *'  Give  us  happiness  by  means  of 
wealth,  or  honor,  or  prosperity, "  is  an  unwarrantable  in- 
trusion on  God.  In  spiritual  things,  he  has  acquainted  us 
with  the  means  whereby  he  will  work,  even  his  OA\ni  word 
and  ordinances — upon  these,  because  they  have  his  pro- 
mise, we  may  confidently  seek  a  blessing.  In  matters  of 
a  temporal  nature  we  must  commit  our  way  unto  the  Lord, 
and  resign  ourselves  to  his  all-wise  dispensations.  It  is 
for  us  to  receive,  and  not  to  appoint. 

He  who  came  to  seek  relief  for  his  son's  sickness,  hears 
of  his  own — **  Except  ye  see  signs  and  wonders,  ye  will 
not  believe  !"  This  nobleman  was  of  Capernaum — there 
had  Christ  often  preached — there  was  one  of  his  chief 
places  of  residence.  This  man  therefore  had  often  heard 
the  doctrines  of  our  Savior,  unless  he  absented  himself 
through  prejudice  and  infidelity — and  the  miracles  of  Je- 
sus could  not  be  unknown  to  him,  at  least  on  the  attesta- 
tion of  others — yet,  in  his  application  to  Christ,  he  seeks 
the  advantage  of  human  skill  and  wisdom,  not  the  pleni- 
tude of  almighty  power.  Incredulity  was  the  prevailing 
error  among  the  Jews — it  was  a  gloom  which  no  ordina- 
ry light  could  dispel — they  demanded  wonders  and  por- 
tentous tokens  from  heaven.  "An  evil  and  adulterous 
generation  seeketh  after  a  sign."  Had  they  not  been  wil- 
fully obdurate,  they  had  already  sufficient  proof  of  the 
Messias,  even  of  the  kind  they  sought  for.    The  circum- 


THE  ruler's  son  HEALED.  325 

Stances  attending  on  his  own  birth,  and  that  of  his  fore- 
runner, the  star,  the  journey  of  the  sages,  the  voice  of 
God  at  his  baptism,  what  were  these  but  signs  and  won- 
ders ]  Yet  their  stubborn  hearts  will  not  accede  to  the 
truth,  unless  each  individual  see  with  his  own  eyes  the 
wonderful  works  of  God.  Blessed  are  they  that  have  not 
seen,  and  yet  have  believed  ! 

The  charge  is  awful  and  alarming — "  Ye  will  not  be- 
lieve !"  Without  faith  there  is  no  true  repentance — with- 
out repentance,  how  shall  we  look  for  pardon  1  The  ben- 
efits which  had  been  offered  to  this  dignified  inhabitant 
of  Capernaum  had  not  yet  taught  him  to  work  the  works 
of  God.  Alas,  the  greater  our  light,  the  more  culpable 
is  our  unbelief.  What  shall  be  our  sentence  if  we  stum- 
ble, in  the  clearest  sunshine  that  ever  beamed  from  hea- 
ven on  any  church  or  nation  1  Be  merciful  to  our  sins,  O 
Lord — take  away  from  us  all  ignorance,  hardness  of  heart, 
and  contempt  of  thy  word.  Keep  it  ever  imprinted  on 
the  souls  of  thy  people,  that,  without  faith,  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  please  thee ! 

Still,  the  mind  of  this  anxious  parent  is  fastened  on  his 
son.  Our  Savior  tells  him  of  his  unbelief — he  repeats 
his  importunate  petition — he  complains  of  soitow — as 
yet  he  is  not  awakened  to  a  sense  of  duty.  O  the  meek- 
ness and  tender  mercy  of  our  blessed  Lord  !  He  implants 
in  our  hearts  the  fond  affections  of  nature — he  allows  of 
their  fervor — he  pities,  instead  of  condemning,  their  ex- 
cess— *'  Go  thy  way — thy  son  liveth."  What  a  word  is 
this  from  those  gi'acious  lips  v/hich  even  now  liad  accus- 
ed this  suppliant  of  unbelief!  ^Vho  would  not  have  ex- 
pected that  some  punishment  would  have  fallen  on  the 
offender  1  that  he  would  have  departed  in  giief  and  dis- 
appointment unheard,  and  unanswered  ?  O  Lord,  if  we 
measure  our  hopes  by  our  own  un worthiness  we  can  liave 
no  expectation  of  blessings — if  we  regard  thy  bounty  and 
compassion,  we  can  have  no  doubt  of  prevailing.    How 


326  hall's  scripture  history. 

gently  dost  tliou  deal  with  our  perverseness  !  The  cries 
and  petulance  of  the  wayward  infant  serve  but  to  excite 
the  anger  of  strangers — the  mother  clasps  him  to  her 
bosom. 

Yet  while  our  Lord  condescends  to  grant  the  petition 
of  a  doubting  father,  he  refuses  to  go  under  his  roof.  For 
the  trial  and  confirmation  of  his  faith,  he  bids  him  depart, 
but  assures  him  of  the  recovery  of  his  child.  Outward 
things  caiTy  no  respect  with  God.  The  image  of  his  Di- 
vine majesty  shining  inwardly  on  the  soul,  obtains  his  fa- 
vor, whatever  be  our  state.  The  centurion's  piety  could 
do  more  than  the  ruler's  gi'eatness — and  the  faithful  man's 
servant  was  more  regarded  than  the  rich  man's  son. 

The  ruler's  request  was,  "  Come  and  heal  " — our  Lord 
returns  for  answer,  "  Go  thy  way,  thy  son  liveth."  The 
mercy  of  God  meets  those  in  the  end,  whom  he  has  tried 
by  previous  correction — graciously  interprets  our  prayers 
— gives  us  what  we  desire  at  his  own  time,  and  in  the 
manner  which  seemeth  good  in  his  sight.  Justly  doth  he 
forbear  to  go  down  with  this  ruler,  lest  he  should  confirm 
him  in  the  opinion  that  his  power  was  merely  local — but 
he  performs  that  miracle  in  absence,  for  which  his  pre- 
sence was  required,  and  gives  a  greater  demonstration  of 
his  omnipotence  than  his  petitioner  had  asked.  How  of- 
ten is  he  deaf  to  our  will,  that  he  may  listen  to  our  advan- 
tage !  The  holy  Paul  would  be  fi-ee  from  temptation — lie 
hears  of  a  fresh  supply  of  gi^ace  :  the  sick  man  prays  for 
recovery,  and  hears  of  patience — for  life,  and  is  received 
to  glory. 

The  fever  of  the  child,  and  the  infidelity  of  the  parent 
are  vanished.  Had  not  the  nobleman  gone  home  satisfied 
with  the  intimation  of  his  son's  life  and  recovery,  how 
could  he  have  expected  any  mercy  or  favor  at  the  hands 
of  God  ?  Now  the  news  that  the  Divine  promise  is  per- 
formed meets  him  on  the  way — and  he  who  believed  in 
part  when  he  left  Capernaum,  and  yet  more  as  he  return- 


MATTHEW    CALLED.  327 

ed  thitlier,  now  advances  to  higher  degi'ees  of  faith,  and 
diffuses  it  throughout  the  whole  compass  of  his  family. 
He  who  boasts  of  a  full  stature  in  the  first  moment  of 
assent,  may  presume,  but  does  not  believe. 


68.— MATTHEW    CALLED. 

Where  is  the  boast  of  prejudice  and  superstition,  when 
we  see  Matthew  the  publican  called  to  be  an  apostle  of 
Christ  ?  Who  shall  prescribe  to  the  Author  of  our  salva:- 
tion,  or  point  out  to  him  the  proper  instruiiients  of  his 
glory  ?  The  other  disciples,  whose  calling  is  recorded, 
were  poor  and  humble  fishermen  :  Matthew  is  taken  from 
the  receipt  of  custom  to  be  both  an  apostle  and  evange- 
list. They  were  unlettered ;  he  by  his  very  profession, 
stigmatized  as  base  and  infamous.  The  condition  was  not 
in  itself  sinful ;  but  while  the  taxes  which  the  Romans 
imposed  on  God's  free  people  were  odious,  the  collectors 
of  them  were  held  in  abomination,  as  persons  devoted  to 
oppression,  cruelty  and  tyrannous  exactions.  Yet,  behold, 
a  publican  called,  from  the  actual  discharge  of  his  hated 
office,  to  be  of  the  household  and  family  of  Christ.  Jesus, 
as  he  passed  by,  said  unto  him,  "  Follow  me."  He  dis- 
covered a  disciple  and  a  preacher  of  the  truth  in  the  veiy 
temple  of  avarice  and  extortion.  Nothing  can  be  hidden 
from  his  piercing  eye,  nothing  can  escape  his  all-powerful 
knowledge — he  is  a  discerner.of  the  thoughts  and  intents 
of  the  heart.  Blessed  Lord,  thou  canst  behold  true  piety 
and  the  love  of  virtue  in  the  most  abject  situation ;  thou 
canst  detect  hypocrisy,  and  pride,  and  all  uncharitable- 
ncss,  though  glittering  in  the  sunshine  of  prosperity. 

The  real  penitent  is  ever  ready  to  accuse  himself,  and. 


328  hall's  scripture  history. 

seeks  not  to  disguise  or  palliate  liis  offences.  How  do 
we  hear  the  shame  of  our  apostle  recorded,  but  by  his 
own  mouth  1  Matthew  the  Evangelist  speaks  of  Matthew 
the  publican — the  other  historians  of  the  Gospel  distin- 
guish him  by  the  name  of  Levi — he  publishes  the  disgi*ace 
annexed  to  his  past  calling,  in  gi*ateful  remembrance  of 
the  mercy  wliicli  had  delivered  liim.  When  we  humble 
ourselves  in  the  sight  of  God,  then  is  he  ready  to  exalt 
and  lift  us  up. 

That  voice,  which  spake  to  the  astonished  publican, 
*'  Follow  me,"  w^as  the  same  all-powerful  word  which 
once  said,  "Let  there  be  light!"  and  there  was  light. 
The  omnipotent  Savior,  by  the  influence  of  his  gi^ace,  at- 
tracts the  heart  of  his  servant — "  he  arose,  and  follow^ed 
him."  We  are  all  by  nature  averse  from  thee,  O  God — 
lo,  thou  speakest,  and  we,  instead  of  following  thee,  like 
this  thy  servant,  remain  in  willing  subjection  to  a  sinful 
and  miserable  world.  Yet  cast  us  not  away  from  thy 
presence,  and  take  not  thy  Holy  Spirit  from  us.  The 
heavenly  voice  may  not  ahvays  address  "us  in  vain — a 
time  may  come  when  we  shall  hear  it  speaking  effectu- 
ally to  our  hearts — then  shall  we  also  arise  and  fol- 
low thee. 

How  does  the  regenerate  soul  account  the  riches  of 
this  world  as  dross,  in  comparison  with  that  better  trea- 
sure, which  fadeth  not  away,  the  prize  of  the  high  calling 
of  God  in  Christ  Jesus  !  The  called  apostle  at  once  aban- 
dons his  profession  (however  lucrative)  and  follovrs  his 
Redeemer  in  contented  poverty.  He  foresaw,  in  that 
hajipy  and  honorable  attendance,  a  more  excellent,  more 
enduring  substance,  which  had  great  recompense  of  re- 
ward. If  we  hold  any  earthly  possession  so  dear  that 
we  refuse  to  part  with  it  for  Christ,  we  are  more  fit  for 
publicans  than  disciples. 

The  blessed  Jesus  calls  Matthew  to  be  a  disciple.  Mat- 
thew presumes  to  invite  his  Lord  to  a  feast.     The  plea- 


MATTHEW    CALLED.  329 

sure  of  his  designation  to  a  better  office  causes  him,  ere 
he  abdicate  the  world,  to  celebrate,  as  a  festival,  the  day 
of  his  entrance  on  a  new  and  spiritual  life.  Here  was 
cheerful  gratitude  rewarded  by  Divine  condescension. 
The  new  sei-vant  bids  his  Master,  the  penitent,  his  Sa- 
vior— and  is  honored  by  his  gracious  presence.  Not  for 
thine  own  sake,  O  blessed  Lord,  didst  thou,  on  this  and 
other  occasions,  vouchsafe  to  hold  converse  with  tliy 
creatures  in  the  hour  of  their  joy.  Thy  meat  and  drink 
was  to  do  the  will  of  thine  eternal  Father — in  pursuit  of 
thy  work  of  mercy,  thou  wert  ready  to  afford  the  benefit 
of  thy  conversation  to  the  humble  publican  as  well  as  the 
superstitious  Pharisee.  When  thou  wert  with  sinners, 
thou  didst  convert  them-— when  with  converts,  thou  didst 
instruct  and  confirm  them — when  with  the  poor,  thou 
didst  feed  them — when  with  the  rich,  thou  didst  impart 
more  precious  gifts  than  all  the  treasures  of  this  world 
could  bestow.  Whither  didst  thou  go,  and  not  leave  a 
blessing  behind  thee  ]  The  bridegi'oon  at  Cana  beholds 
the  water  miraculously  converted  into  wine — Simon  the 
Pharisee  hath  his  table  honored  by  the  public  forgiveness 
of  a  sinner,  and  the  heavenly  doctrine  of  the  remission  of 
sins.  Salvation  came  to  the  house  of  Zaccheus  with  thee 
its  Author ;  thy  presence  made  the  chief  of  the  publicans 
a  son  of  Abraham — Matthew,  already  a  disciple,  is  num- 
bered with  the  holy  apostles — Martha  and  Mary  enter- 
tain him,  and  besides  Divine  instruction,  receive  their  bro- 
ther from  the  dead.  O  Savior,  thou  takest  up  thine  abode 
in  our  hearts — thou  dost  receive  us  to  thy  spiritual  ban- 
quet— in  both  is  honor  and  blessedness. 

The  public  contempt  had  taught  these  receivers  of  cus- 
tom the  lesson  of  unanimity — and  led  them  to  seek  mu- 
tual comfort  in  that  society  which  others  held  loathsome 
and  contagious.  At  the  table  of  his  new  convert  our 
Lord  beholds  an  assemblage  of  pubHcans  and  sinners — 
meeting  together  in  the  hope  of  that  mercy  which  tlieir 


330  hall's    SCniPTURE    ihstory. 

associate  had  found — or  perhaps  invited  by  the  disciple 
to  be  partakers  of  the  plenteous  grace  which  had  been 
liberally  afforded  to  himself  O  merciful  Lord,  who  hast 
made  all  men,  and  liatest  nothing  that  thou  hast  made, 
what  sinner  can  fear  to  kneel  before  thee,  when  he  be- 
holds thy  gracious  condescension  1  Who  can  fear  to  be 
despised  by  thy  merciful  benignity,  which  did  not  disdain 
to  hold  converse,  even  with  the  vilest  of  mankind  ?  Thou 
didst  vouchsafe  to  cast  an  eye  of  pity  on  the  malefactor 
expiring  on  his  cross,  on  the  sinner  weeping  at  thy  feet, 
on  the  Canaanite  crying  to  thee  by  the  way,  on  the  blush- 
ing and  contrite  adulteress,  on  the  perjured  disciple,  on 
the  furious  persecutor  of  thy  Church,  nay,  on  thine  own 
executioners  and  murderers.  How  can  we  be  unwel- 
come guests  at  thy  table,  if  we  come  with  hearty  repent- 
ance, with  steadfast  faith  in  thy  mercy,  and  full  purpose 
of  amendment  in  our  hearts  and  lives  ?  "  This  is  a  faith- 
ful saying,  and  worthy  of  all  acceptation,  that  Christ  Je- 
sus came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners.'" 

The  envious  Pharisees  misinterpreted  all  the  actions 
of  our  Lord.  Where  they  should  have  admired  his  good- 
ness, they  charge  him,  in  the  presence  of  his  disciples, 
with  impiety — "  Why  eateth  your  master  with  publicans 
and  sinners  1"  They  durst  not  address  our  blessed  Sa- 
vior himself,  whose  answer  would  at  once  have  convicted 
their  malice  ;  but  they  level  their  assaults  where  they 
will  be  most  likely  to  do  extensive  mischief.  We  cannot 
reverence  that  man  whom  we  think  imj^ious.  Christ  had 
lost  the  hearts  of  his  followers,  if  they  could  for  a  mo- 
ment have  listened  to  these  malevolent  insinuations — 
"Can  he  be  worthy  of  the  name  of  a  prophet,  who  is  pro- 
fane ?  Can  he  be  otherwise  than  profane,  who  eateth 
with  publicans  and  sinners  ]"  Proud  and  senseless  Pha- 
risees, ye  fast  in  your  houses,  while  Christ  eats  with  sin- 
p^ers — but  if  ye  fast  from  pride,  while  he  eats  in  humili- 
ty ;  if  ye  fast  for  applause  or  popularity,  while  he,  at  liis 


MATTHEW    CALLED.  331 

repast,  seeks  the  edification  and  conversion  of  offenders ; 
your  fast  is  unclean — his  feast  is  holy — ye  shall  have  your 
portion  with  hypocrites,  when  he  shall  come  in  glory, 
and  call  those  souls  to  joy  which  have  been  purified  by 
repentance. 

When  these  wicked  censurers  thought  the  disciples 
had  oflended,  they  spake,  not  to  them,  but  to  their  mas- 
ter— "  Why  do  thy  disciples  that  which  is  not  lawful  I" 
Now,  when  they  judge  our  Lord  to  have  transgi'essed, 
they  speak,  not  to  himself,  but  to  his  followers.  They 
leave  no  expedient  untried  to  bring  dissension  into  the 
family  of  Christ,  and  to  check  the  progi'ess  of  the  Gospel. 
Meanwhile  the  omnipotence  of  our  Savior  hath  discerned 
the  thoughts  and  intents  of  the  hearts,  and  his  voice  an- 
swers concerning  himself — "  They  that  be  whole  have 
no  need  of  a  physician  ;  but  they  that  are  sick."  The  in- 
solent Pharisees  over-rated  thsir  o"vvn  holiness,  and  joass- 
ed  ready  condemnation  on  the  lives  of  others — as  if  them- 
selves were  untainted  by  secret  sins — as  if  others  were 
incapable  of  pardon.  The  Almighty  beholds  arrogance, 
and  finds  the  judges  worthy  of  punishment,  the  accused 
not  unworthy  of  remission.  The  sickness  of  these  sin- 
ners is  less  desperate  than  the  health  of  their  haughty 
censurers.  Every  soul  is  sick;  those  most,  who  feel  it 
not.  They  who  feel  it,  complain — they  who  complain, 
are  healed.  The  wretch,  who  is  on  the  verge  of  eternity, 
is  insensible  of  pain,  because  the  killing  mortification  is 
actually  begun. 

O  blessed  Physician,  by  whose  stripes  we  are  healed 
— by  whose  death  we  live — happy  are  they  who  betake 
themselves  unto  thee.  With  thee  is  the  fulness  of  wis- 
dom, and  power,  and  mercy — make  thou  us  sensible  of 
our  sins  ;  we  are  then  as  safe  as  thou  art  gracious.  "  Art 
thou  not  from  everlasting,  O  Lord  God,  our  Holy  One  ? 
We  shall  not  die,  O  Lord — for  we  are  thine,  thou  lover 
of  souls !" 


332  hall's  scripture  history. 


69.— T  HE     GADARENES. 

While  the  unwearied  mercy  of  God  provides  inces- 
santly for  our  good,  the  powers  of  darkness  are  indefati- 
gable in  their  attempts  to  do  us  evil.  Their  malice, 
were  it  not  controlled  by  God,  would  give  us  not  a  mo- 
ment's intermission — the  world  would  be  full  of  nothing 
but  sin,  and  sorrow,  and  torment.  But  blessed  be  the 
Lord,  whose  omnipotence  hath  limited  and  restrained  the 
power  of  our  enemies — blessed  be  our  strong  Helper, 
who  hath  not  given  us  over  for  a  prey  unto  their  teeth. 
They  are  mighty,  and  rage  horribly ;  but  yet  the  Lord, 
who  dwelleth  on  high,  is  mightier. 

"  When  our  blessed  Savior  had  passed  over  the  lake, 
immediately  there  met  him  out  of  the  tomb  a  man  with 
an  unclean  spirit." 

The  fetters  wherewith  this  wretch  had  been  bound  by 
the  charity  of  his  friends,  were  no  sooner  fastened  on 
him  than  they  were  broken — he  escapes  into  the  wilder- 
ness, carried  thither  by  the  resistless  impulse  of  roaring 
insanity,  transported  by  his  tyrannous  inmate  to  a  place 
of  gloomy  desolation,  that  he  might  be  out  of  the  capa- 
city of  all  relief  and  comfort. 

There  is  no  misery  incident  to  human  nature  Vv'hich 
is  not  known  and  pitied  by  our  gracious  Redeemer. 
Without  entreaty,  either  from  the  miserable  sufferer  him- 
self, or  even  from  any  charitable  friend,  the  God  of  sj^ir- 
its  takes  pity  on  his  distress,  and  commands  the  mali- 
cious adversary  to  depart  from  him.  O  mercy,  that  antici- 
pates our  requests,  that  exceeds  our  thoughts,  that  forces 
benefits  on  our  state  of  helplessness,  that  does  for  us 
more  than  we  ask  or  feel  our  need  of!  If  men,  upon 
our  earnest  entreaty,  afford  their  aid,  we  praise  and  ad- 
mire their  bounty — but  thou,  O  God  of  all  goodness,  art 
more  ready  to  hear,  than  thy  creatures  to  pray  unto  thee. 


THE    GADAPvENES.  o33 

And  is  thy  loving-kindness  impaired  by  thy  glory  ?  If 
thou  wert  thus  compassionate  upon  earth,  art  thou  not 
equally  so  in  heaven  1  How  dost  thou,  at  this  moment, 
behold  with  the  tenderest  pity  all  our  sorrows,  all  our  in- 
firmities !  How  does  thy  grace,  in  the  midst  of  our  sever- 
est afflictions,  give  us  a  way  to  escape,  that  we  may  be 
able  to  bear  it !  What  evil  can  befall  us,  which  thou  dost 
not  behold  from  thy  heaven,  and  feel,  and  relieve  ? 

The  poor  demoniac  is  compelled  to  give  utterance  to 
the  horrors  wherewith  the  presence  of  Jesus  affected 
the  malignant  spirit — "  I  beseech  thee,  torment  me  not." 
Guilt  would  fain  escape  out  of  sight — never  is  it  so  ap- 
palled and  confounded  as  when  it  beholds  the  radiant 
face  of  innocence.  Sataix  had  learnt  by  experience  how 
fruitless  it  was  to  enter  the  lists  against  the  Son  of  God 
— he  stood  before  our  Lord  with  that  grief  and  conster- 
nation which  will  hereafter  overwhelm  his  wretched  vo- 
taries, when  they  shall  say  to  the  mountains,  "  Fall  on 
us!"  and  to  the  hills,  "Cover  us!"  That  proud  spirit, 
which  had  once  presumptuously  demanded  adoration 
from  the  Messiah,  now  casts  himself  down  at  his  feet  v.'ith 
servile  and  abject  gestures  of  submission.  AVho  shall 
value  himself  on  the  mere  external  homafje  of  lifeless 
superstition  or  hypocrisy,  when  he  sees  Satan  himself  fall 
down  and  worship  1  In  the  outward  demeanor  is  the 
body  of  devotion — in  the  disposition  of  the  mind,  the  sou! 
of  it.  True  religion  unites  these  in  the  homage  which 
the  christian  pays  to  God — how  different  is  that  homnge 
from  the  counterfeit  prostrations  of  evil  men  and  evil 
spirits  I  The  sincere  believer  serves  the  Lord  in  fear 
and  rejoices  in  trembling.  He  adores  that  heavenly 
Master,  in  whose  supremacy  is  his  comfort  and  protec- 
tion. His  duty  is  the  duty  of  a  son,  not  that  of  a  slave.  It 
is  fear  enlivened  with  joy,  and  joy  attemj^ercd  by  fear — 
tvhereas  the  service  of  devils,  and  their  ministers  on 
earth,  is  only  an  act  of  form  or  of  constraint,  as  to  their 


334  HALL  S    SCRIPTURE    HISTORY. 

Judge — as  to  their  tormentor — not  as  to  their  Lord  :  in 
mere  hypocrisy,  not  in  reverence — in  gloomy  melancholy, 
without  all  delight — in  a  perfect  horror,  without  capa- 
city of joy. 

But  in  what  terms  do  we  hear  the  confession  of  the 
apostate  spirit  ]  "  I  beseech  thee,  O  Jesus,  Son  of  the 
most  high  God!"  A  confession,  which  (if  we  knew  not 
its  author)  we  should  attribute  to  some  faithful  convert, 
or  some  adoring  saint !  That  name,  which  was  announced 
by  angels,  is  invoked  by  devils.  That  great  and  awful 
name,  at  the  recital  of  which  **  every  knee  shall  bow,  in 
heaven,  in  earth,  and  under  the  earth,'"  is  called  on  with 
eager  importunity  by  this  prostrate  adversary.  He  be- 
lieves and  trembles  ;  and  what  he  believes  he  confesses. 
It  was  reserved  for  infidels  to  deny  what  hell  itself  is 
not  presum23tuous  enough  to  question.  Yet  how  little 
can  mere  speculation  avail  us  in  matters  that  concern 
our  souls  1  If  charity  edifies  not,  knowledge  only  serves 
to  allure  us  to  our  destruction.  If  there  be  not  a  sense 
of  our  interest  in  this  Savior,  if  we  have  not  gi'ace  and 
disposition  of  mind  to  apply  to  ourselves  his  merits,  and 
reap  the  benefit  of  his  atonement,  we  attain  no  ease,  no 
comfort ;  we  are  neither  safer  nor  better ;  we  are  only  so 
far  enlightened  as  to  understand  who  shall  be  our  Judge. 

It  is  for  none  but  God  to  hold  converse  with  Satan. 
He,  who  might  touch  the  leprosy  without  legal  un- 
cleanness,  because  he  touched  to  heal,  might  safely  speak 
to  that  enemy  whom  he  sought  to  overcome.  Our  in- 
firmity cannot  do  this  without  sin,  because  we  cannot  do 
it  without  danger.  Be  it  our  care  to  fly  from  this  une- 
qual conflict — and  if  the  spirit  of  disobedience  endeavor 
at  a  conference  with  us  by  his  secret  temptations,  let  us, 
with  the  Archangel,  (see  Zech.  3  :  2,  Jude,  5  :  9,)  at 
once  commit  ourselves  to  Jehovah  for  our  defence  ;  let 
us,  with  the  royal  prophet,  exclaim — "  Depart  from  me, 
ye  wicked — I  will  keep  the  commandments  of  God." 


THE    GADAIlEXES.  ^  335 

What  a  combination  is  there  among  the  powers  of 
darkness  !  What  wonder  is  it,  that  wicked  men  conspire 
in  evil,  that  there  is  such  unanimity  among  the  enemies 
of  Christ,  when  devils  themselves  are  one,  in  act,  in  title, 
in  habitation  ?  "  My  name  is  Legion— for  we  are  many." 
Alas,  how  doth  it  behove  the  servants  of  God  to  unite 
themselves  together  in  a  communion  of  saints  ?  If  armed 
troops  assault  a  single  warrior,  what  hojje  has  he  of  life 
or  victory  ?  All  our  forces  are  necessary  to  make  head 
against  this  league  of  destruction.  Our  enemies  come 
upon  us  like  a  torrent — O  let  us  not  be  separate,  like 
drops  which  fall  into  the  dust  ! 

How  fearful  is  the  consideration  of  the  multitude  of 
apostate  angels  !  If  a  Iqgion  can  attend  one  man,  how 
many  are  they  who  are  dispersed  over  the  world  for  the 
punishment  of  the  wicked,  the  benefit  of  God's  cliildren, 
the  trial  of  both  !  There  is  no  place,  no  time,  wherein 
we  may  be  secure  from  the  onsets  of  these  enemies. 
The  wicked  shall  not  want  furtherance  to  evil,  the  good 
shall  not  want  combatants  in  their  christian  warfare. 
Awaken  your  courage,  stir  up  your  hearts,  make  sure 
the  means  of  your  safety,  ye  servants  of  Christ.  Yet  are 
there  more  and  mightier  with  us,  than  against  us.  The 
God  of  heaven  is  with  us,  if  we  are  with  him — and  our 
guardian  angels  behold  the  face  of  God.  If  every  malig- 
nant spirit  were  a  legion,  we  are  secure  in  his  omnipo- 
tence. Though  we  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  sha- 
dow of  death,  we  shall  fear  no  evil — he  shall  stretch 
forth  his  hand  against  the  furiousness  of  our  enemies, 
and  his  right  hand  shall  save  us. 

The  malice  of  these  powers  of  darkness  extends  itself 
over  the  whole  creation.  When  the  almighty  word  of 
our  blessed  Savior  commanded  the  evil  spirits  to  depart 
from  the  present  object  of  their  cruelty,  they  sought  per- 
mission to  enter  into  a  herd  of  swine,  then  feeding  near 
the  mountains.    If  they  may  not  vex  the  body  of  man, 


336  hall's  scripture  history. 

tliey  will  destroy  Lis  possessions.  Any  way,  every  way, 
they  seek  our  misery.  But  if  it  be  fearful  to  think  how 
great  things  evil  spirits  can  do  with  permission,  how  are 
we  revived  by  the  thought,  that  they  can  do  nothing 
without  permission  !  Their  enmity  would  destroy  the 
whole  world — more  especially,  mankind — most  of  all, 
christians — yet  if  without  authority  from  God  they  can- 
not assault  even  a  senseless  beast,  what  can  they  do  to  the 
living  images  of  their  Creator  ?  They  are'  not  able  to 
suggest  one  thought  to  our  hearts,  but  under  the  permis- 
sion of  our  Savior.  He  doth  not  afflict  willingly,  nor 
grieve  the  children  of  men.  He  sends  us  to  the  contest, 
that  we  may  reap  the  glories  of  the  victory.  Having 
shed  his  own  most  precious  blood  to  save  us  from 
evil,  he  will  not  give  us  over  into  the  power  of  our 
enemies — when  we  sit  in  darkness  the  Lord  will  be 
a  light  unto  us. 

No  sooner  are  the  spirits  departed  from  the  man  than 
they  enter  into  the  swine — and  suddenly,  with  impetuous 
speed,  the  whole  herd  run  violently  into  the  sea,  and 
perish  in  the  waters.  And  was  this  not  written  for  our 
sakes  1  For  our  sakes,  no  doubt,  this  was  written.  AVhy 
vrill  not  our  zeal  to  do  good  keep  pace  with  the  activity 
of  others  to  do  evil  ? 

The  Gadarenes  hear  all  that  has  been  done,  and,  in- 
stead of  expressing  joy  or  gi'atitude  at  the  act  of  heavenly 
power  and  mercy  which  had  restored  their  miserable 
neighbor,  they  make  supplication  with  one  voice  to  Je- 
sus, that  he  would  depart  out  of  their  coasts.  AVhat  mis- 
erable and  pernicious  misconstructions  do  men  make  of 
the  Divine  attributes  and  actions  1  With  what  ingenious 
sophistrj^  do  they  deceive  their  own  souls,  that  they  may 
rob  themselves  of  God?  "  He  is  omniscient — why  should 
I  pray  1  He  is  provident — why  may  not  I  be  careless  1 
He  is  merciful — why  should  I  not  offend  1  Foolish  men 
say  unto  the  Almighty,  "  Depart  fi'om  us — for  we  desire 


THE    WOMAN    OF    CANAAJT.  337 

not  the  knowledge  of  thy  ways."  O  Savior,  how  worthy 
are  they  to  be  deprived  of  thy  presence  who  sohcit  thy 
departure  !  Thou  hast  just  cause  to  be  weary  of  us,  even 
when  we  seek  thy  face — but  when  our  wretched  un- 
thankfulness  grows  weary  of  thee,  who  can  wonder  that 
we  are  abandoned  to  ourselves  ]  Yet  leave  us  not,  nei- 
ther fjrsake  us,  O  God  of  our  salvation — even  thy  chas- 
tisements are  mercies,  when  compared  with  the  horror 
of  rejection — even  thine  anger  is  less  insupportable  than 
thine  absence  ! 


70.— THE    WOMAN   OF  CANAAN. 

Not  only  the  palaces  of  the  great,  but  the  cottages  of 
the  poor,  are  gilded  by  the  radiance  of  the  sunbeam. 
The  miracles  of  our  blessed  Savior,  during  his  ministry 
on  earth,  were  not  confined  within  the  limits  of  his  pecu- 
liar people — that  perfect  light  shone  upon  all — none 
were  excluded.  Though  his  mission  principally  regard- 
ed Judea,  as  far  as  related  to  his  personal  residence,  he 
would  sometimes  extend  the  influence  of  his  power  and 
mercy  to  the  Gentile  world.  Departing  into  the  coasts 
of  Tyre  and  Sidon,  he  finds  a  woman  of  Canaan  oppress- 
ed with  intolerable  anguish,  and  stretches  forth  his  hand 
for  her  relief- 
It  was  long  since  the  name  or  nation  of  Canaanites  had 
been  mentioned  in  the  world.  All  the  country  of  Pales- 
tine had  been  once  so  styled,  but  the  people  were  now  in 
a  manner  forgotten.  Yet  this  woman,  as  descended  fi-om 
those  Phoenicians  who  were  anciently  expelled  out  of 
Canaan,  is  called  by  the  name  of  her  parent-nation.  God 
would  magnify  his  own  mercy,  and  shame  the  ingratitude 
of  his  rebellious  people — a  faithful  Canaanite  is  a  suppli- 

Script.  Iliet.  15 


338  hall's  scripture  history. 

ant  to  Christ,  while  the  Jewa  despised  and  neglected  so 
great  salvation. 

The  unhappy  mother  did  not  speak  without  the  most 
A'ehement  expressions  of  sorrow.  Affection  raised  her 
voice  to  an  importunate  clamor.  The  God  of  mercy  de- 
lights in  these  impassioned  solicitations  of  penitence  and 
faith.  Words  and  not  prayers  go  forth  out  of  careless 
and  feigned  lips.  If  we  feel  our  wants,  we  shall  express 
them  in  the  animated  language  of  real  supjDliants.  If  we 
would  prevail  with  God,  we  must  address  ourselves  to 
the  throne  of  grace  with  all  the  fervor  of  our  souls. 

In  her  application  to  our  Savior  for  his  pity  and  assist- 
ance, we  find  an  abstract  of  that  faith  which  it  is  tlie 
christian's  duty  to  keep  inviolate,  as  the  foundation  of 
his  dearest  hope.  **  Have  mercy  on  me,  O  Lord,  thou 
Son  of  David !"  What  proselyte,  what  disciple  could  have 
said  more  1  What  does  she  confess,  but  the  divine  and  hu- 
man nature  united  in  the  one  Messiah — his  divinity,  as 
Lord — his  humanity  as  the  Son — both,  as  the  Son  of 
David  1  To  Abraham  was  promised  a  blessing  on  his 
posterity — to  David  perpetual  dominion.  The  woman 
of  Canaan,  in  addressing  our  Lord  by  this  title,  proclaims 
him  the  everlasting  King  of  his  church,  the  Rod  which 
should  proceed  from  the  stem  of  Jesse,  the  ti'ue  and  only 
Savior  of  the  world.  He  who  thus  approaches  Christ, 
approaches  him  not  in  vain.  "  God  hath  given  us  an  un- 
derstanding, that  we  may  know  him  that  is  true — and  we 
are  in  him  that  is  true,  even  in  his  Son  Jesus  Christ. 
This  is  the  tiTie  God,  and  eternal  life." 

Being  thus  acknowledged,  he  is  entreated  to  show  mer- 
cy. The  daughter  of  the  suppliant,  not  herself,  was  tor- 
mented— but  she  says,  **  Have  mercy  on  me.*^  Perhaps 
the  child  was  senseless  of  misery — the  parent  feels  a 
double  portion  of  soitov/.  It  was  this  affliction  which 
sent  her  to  Christ.  We  cannot  have  a  better  advocate 
than  our  own  calamity  :  unassisted,  it  sues,  and  pleads, 


THE    WOMAN    OF    CANAAN.  339 

and  importunes  for  us  with  God.  That  which  too  often 
disgusts  and  discourages  men,  whose  compassion  is  finite, 
attracts  him  to  us,  whose  loving-kindness  endureth  for 
ever  and  ever.  "  O  thou  afflicted,  tossed  with  tempest 
and  not  comforted,  in  a  httle  wrath  I  hid  my  face  from 
thee  for  a  moment ;  but  with  everlasting  kindness  will  I 
have  mercy  on  thee,  saith  the  Lord  thy  Redeemer." 

But  neither  the  strength  of  our  faith,  nor  the  sincerity 
of  our  obedience,  can  secure  us  against  bodily  and  tem- 
poral affliction.  All  Israel  could  not  afford  a  parallel  to 
the  zeal  and  devotion  of  this  Canaanite — yet  was  she  tor- 
mented in  her  daughter.  Against  inward  and  spiritual 
diseases  religion  affords  us  an  unfailing  antidote — other 
chastisements,  though  grievous  in  appearance,  may  be 
salutary  in  the  event.  Our  heavenly  Father  makes  use 
of  various  means  to  promote  one  important  end — the 
eternal  salvation  of  mankind.  When  the  messenger  of 
Satan  buffets  us,  it  is  enough  that  God  hath  said,  "  My 
gi'ace  is  sufficient  for  thee." 

To  the  prayer  of  faith  and  humility  offered  at  the  feet 
of  the  Savior  of  mankind,  what  might  have  been  expect- 
ed but  an  immediate  and  satisfactory  reply  ]  Yet,  be- 
hold, "he  answered  her  not  a  word."  Whence,  O  Lord, 
was  this  unaccustomed  silence  1  An  unhappy  mourner 
implores  thy  mercy — thou,  the  God  of  mercy,  art  sneech- 
less.  Couldst  thou  do  otherwise  than  pity,  and  regard 
her  1  She  could  never  have  said,  "  O  Lord,  thou  Son  of 
David,"  but  from  thee — No  man  calleth  Jesus  Lord,  but 
by  the  Holy  Ghost.  But  it  seemed  good  to  thy  Divine 
wisdom  to  make  trial  of  the  patience  of  this  thy  servant 
— and  while  her  fervent  prayers  were  no  less  welcome 
to  thee  than  the  adoration  of  angels,  thou  wouldst  seem 
as  if  thou  didst  not  hear,  or  at  least  regard  them.  When 
we  have  sent  up  our  petitions  to  the  throne  of  mercy, 
happy  are  we,  if  we  receive  an  immediate  answer  of 
peace — but  if  the  blessing  is  sometimes  delayed,  let  us 


340  hall's    SCRIPTIRE    HISTORY. 

not  therefore  abandon  ourselves  to  despair — let  us  not 
imagine  that  our  prayer  is  ineffectual,  or  that  CTod  is 
deaf  to  our  entreaties.  A  faithful  suitor  in  the  present 
instance  addresses  a  gracious  Savior — and  yet  he  answers 
her  not  a  word.  If  we  are  poor  in  Sj^irit,  God  is  rich  in 
mercy — he  cannot,  he  will  not  send  us  away  empty — but 
he  will  teach  us  the  lesson  of  duteous  perseverance ;  and 
oppose  our  will,  that  he  may  advance  our  benefit. 

In  consequence  of  our  blessed  Lord's  silence,  his  dis- 
ciples are  moved  to  pray  for  this  afflicted  parent.  They 
approach  their  INIaster,  not  requesting  her  dismission — 
that  had  been  no  favor,  but  a  grievous  punishment.  If  to 
be  held  in  suspense  be  miserable,  to  be  sent  away  with 
a  repulse  is  aggi'avation  of  sorro^v.  They  rather  implore 
him  to  extend  his  wonted  mercy,  and  to  grant  her  the 
desire  of  her  heart.  They  saw  her  grief — they  were  ac- 
quainted with  its  cause — they  admired  her  faith  and  con- 
stancy, and  became  suitors  for  her,  unrequested.  It  is 
our  duty,  in  all  cases  of  necessity,  to  intercede  for  each 
other  with  God — to  approach  him  with  earnest  supplica- 
tions for  the  relief  of  the  distressed.  We  are  command- 
ed to  say,  "  Our  Father"  (not  my  Father)  "  which  art  in 
heaven  !"  That  man  cannot  pray,  or  be  heard  for  him- 
self, who  offers  not  his  petition  for  others.  No  prayer 
hath  efficacy  without  faith — no  faith  without  charity. 

Christ,  who  spake  not  to  the  woman,  answers  his  dis- 
ciples— but  who  shall  decide,  whether  the  silence  or  the 
reply  were  most  grievous?  "I  am  not  sent  but  to  the 
lost  sheep  of  the  house  of  Israel."  What  is  this  but  a 
defence  of  his  apparent  neglect  ? — a  proof  that  it  was  by 
no  means  casual,  but  purjjosely  designed  ?  While  he  re- 
mained silent  he  might  have  been  supposed  to  be  occu- 
pied with  higher  thoughts — now  his  answer  tends  to 
drive  away  even  the  shadow  of  hope.  Like  a  faithful 
aml>assador,  he  has  regard  to  his  commission.  He  who 
in  the  mysterious  conflict  with  the  patriarch  (see  Gen. 


THE    WO.AIAN    OP    CANAAN.  341 

32  :  24-32,)  had  clianged  his  name  and  dismissed  him 
with  a  blessins:,  will  not  foro-et  his  old  lovino^-kindncss  to 
the  house  of  Israel.  Till  their  Divine  Shepherd  came 
down  from  heaven,  the  sheep  of  his  pasture  (a  prey  to 
tyranny  and  superstition)  had  neither  food  nor  protection 
— they  wandered,  and  were  lost.  O  blessed  Savior,  we 
gee  thy  charge — thou  art  sent  to  the  humble  and  contrite 
heart,  not  to  those  who  are  securely  fenced  in  their  own 
vain  confidence — thou  art  sent  to  sheep — to  sheep  that 
are  lost.  He  is  not  a  Jew  who  is  one  outwardly.  Every 
Israelite  is  not  a  true  one.  Thou  wilt  not  brino:  us  back 
to  thy  fjld,  if  we  be  not  lost  in  our  own  apprehension. 
O  make  us  so  sensible  of  our  own  wanderings,  that  we 
may  know,  and  feel,  and  rejoice  in  that  mercy  which 
recalls  us  unto  thee  ! 

And  will  not  the  wretched  mother  now  desist  from  her 
importunity  ?  Will  neither  the  silence  of  Christ  nor  his 
denial  put  an  end  to  her  entreaties  ?  Could  she  have  one 
glimpse  of  hope  after  a  repulse  like  this?  Still,  as  if  she 
saw  no  cause  of  discouragement,  she  comes,  and  worships, 
and  cries,  "Lord,  help  me!"  No  refusal,  no  contempt 
can  cast  her  off.  True  faith  is  steadfast  and  unmoveable. 
The  woman  of  Canaan  approached  our  Lord,  not  to  mur- 
mur, but  to  expostulate — to  pray — to  prostrate  herself  at 
his  feet.  She  saw  that  divinity  in  our  blessed  Savior 
which  bowed  her  to  the  earth — before,  she  had  confessed 
him  with  her  mouth  ;  now,  she  bends  the  knee  before 
him.  There  cannot  be  a  fitter  posture  for  mortals  in 
their  supplications  to  God. 

Still  the  constancy  of  this  servant  of  Christ  must  en- 
dure a  fiercer  flame.  *'It  is  not  good  to  take  the  chil- 
dren's bread  and  to  cast  it  unto  the  dogs."  How  difte- 
Tcnt  are  the  ways  of  heaven  from  those  of  men  !  Even 
this  severity  argues  favor.  O  Lord,  the  trial  had  not  been 
so  sharp  if  thou  hadst  not  found  the  faith  of  thy  suppliant 
strong,  and  designed  her  a  happy  issue  to  her  sufferings. 


342  hall's  scripture  history. 

Behold  the  triumph  of  pious  humility !  "  Truth,  Lord — 
yd  the  dogs  eat  of  the  crumbs  which  fall  from  their  master's 
table.  Thou  art  truth  itself,  and  thy  words  are  the  words 
of  truth.  Yet  however  despicable  my  condition,  admit 
me  to  this  favor  and  privilege,  that  I  may  partake,  at  an 
humble  distance,  of  that  mercy  which  thou  dost  bestow 
60  liberally  on  thy  children.  The  blessing  I  require, 
though  great  to  me,  is  as  nothing  to  thine  infinite  power 
and  goodness.  I  presume  not  to  press  to  thy  board — 
give  me  this  boon,  and  I  shall  retire  with  transports  of 
gi-atitude." 

Never  was  such  zeal  and  piety  unrewarded.  "O  wo- 
man, great  is  thy  faith — be  it  unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt 
— and  her  daughter  was  healed  in  the  self-same  hour." 

We  cannot  be  more  precious  in  the  sight  of  God  than 
when  we  humble  our  souls  before  him.  Nothing  is  ob- 
tained by  vain  ostentation — nothing  is  lost  by  lowly  self- 
abasement.*  O  God,  when,  from  the  consideration  of  thine 
holiness,  thy  purity,  thine  omnipotence,  we  turn  our  eyes 
to  our  own  vileness  and  imperfections,  how  shall  we  ex- 
press our  shame  and  confusion  !  O  let  us  acknowledge 
our  infirmities  to  thee,  who  canst  pity,  forgive,  redress 
them — so  setting  ourselves  down  on  the  lowest  seat  at 
thy  table,  that  thou,  the  great  Master  of  the  feast,  mayest 
in  thine  own  good  time  advance  us  to  the  height  of  glory. 
Amen. 


71.— Z  AC  CHE  US. 

Our  blessed  Savior  "went  about  doing  good" — wis- 
dom, truth  and  mercy  were  ever  his  companions.  If  the 
duties  of  his  sacred  office  call  him  from  place  to  jilace,  in 


ZACCHEUS.  343 

his  progress  he  will  difiuse  the  knowledge  and  faith  of 
God,  and  afford  comfort,  instruction,  deliverance  to  man- 
kind. The  good  Shepherd,  who  came  to  seek  and  to 
save  that  which  was  lost,  is  unwearied  in  his  endeavors  to 
bring  back  the  wanderers  into  the  fold.  In  his  way  from 
Galilee  to  Jerusalem,  he  betows  the  light  of  his  heavenly 
doctrine  on  the  inhabitants  of  Jericho,  and  brings  salva- 
tion to  the  house  of  the  humble  Zaccheus. 

The  conversion  of  a  sinner  cannot  fail  of  affording  joy 
and  exultation  to  every  faithful  heart.  To  see  men  per- 
verted from  God  to  the  world,  from  truth  to  error,  fi"om 
piety  to  irreligion,  is  both  common  and  lamentable — but 
the  return  of  the  penitent  to  the  path  of  life,  the  adoption 
of  a  wretched  transgressor  into  the  glorious  inheritance 
of  the  children  of  God,  is  a  subject  of  delight  even  to  tlie 
blessed  angels. 

The  name  of  publican  was  in  itself  a  term  of  abhor- 
rence. So  highly  did  the  Jews  regard  their  freedom,  that 
every  impeachment  of  it  seemed  an  unpardonable  crime. 
They  questioned  not  merely  the  expediency,  but  even 
the  legality  of  paying  tribute  to  the  Roman  emperors. 
Matthew,  22  :  17.  To  a  people  so  impatient  of  the  yoke, 
any  office  of  exaction  must  of  necessity  be  grievous — 
more  particularly  where  the  avarice  and  extortion  of  the 
officers  appointed  for  that  purpose  rendered  the  impost 
of  Caesar  doubly  odious.  Even  wealth  itself,  thus  ac- 
quired, failed  of  procuring  a  publican  the  respect  and 
affection  of  his  countrymen.  They  considered  the  office 
as  an  exclusion  from  the  privileges  of  the  sons  of  Jacob — 
they  who  filled  it  were  ranked  with  heathens,  with  the 
vilest  of  sinners,  with  strangers  from  the  covenant  of 
promise.  Yet  from  this  perilous  and  unhallowed  traffic 
^Matthew  is  called  to  be  an  apostle  and  evangelist,  and 
Zaccheus,  the  chief  of  the  publicans,  to  be  an  eminent 
disciple  of  our  Lord. 

When  the  fame  of  Christ  diffused  itself  throug-hout  the 


344  hall's  scripture  history. 

city  of  Jericho,  Zacclieus  was  earnestly  desirous  to  behold 
the  mighty  Prophet.  Curiosity,  rather  than  faith,  at  first 
led  him  to  this  interview.  The  rumor  of  those  astonish- 
ing miracles  which  exalted  our  Savior  above  mankind 
induced  this  publican  to  seek  his  presence — and  the 
mercy  of  God  gave  occasion  to  the  belief,  and  conver- 
sation of  a  penitent. 

And  can  we  wonder  at  the  eagerness  wherewith  Zac- 
cheus  surmounted  all  difficulties,  that  he  might  attain  the 
object  of  his  wishes  1  What  glorious  scene  could  the 
world  exhibit  comparable  with  the  sight  of  the  Messiah  1 
The  aged  Simeon  wished  this  spectacle  to  close  his  eyes, 
as  if  he  deemed  it  no  less  than  disparagement  to  look  on 
ought  after  it ;  and  prayed  to  depart  in  peace,  having 
seen  the  salvation  of  God.  The  father  of  the  faithful,  at 
the  distance  of  almost  two  thousand  years,  saw  his  day, 
and  was  glad.  The  great  Apostle  of  the  Gentiles  speaks 
of  this  as  his  most  signal  distinction — "  Have  I  not  seen 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord  V*  Blessed  Savior,  if  to  behold 
thee  on  earth  is  the  subject  of  exultation,  what  shall  be 
their  joy  who  shall  not  only  be  admitted  to  see,  but  to 
partake  of  thy  glory  in  heaven  1  Even  now,  though 
the  eye  of  faith  be  dim,  yet  it  is  sure.  O  Lord,  teach  us 
to  covet  eamestly  the  best  gifts — teach  us  to  aspire  after 
those  regions  of  bliss  where  we  shall  see  thee  as  we  are 
geen — where  we  shall  know  thee  as  we  ourselves  are 
known. 

The  streets  of  Jericho  are  thronged  by  the  assembled 
multitude — here  were  many  beholders,  but  few  disciples. 
If  gazing,  if  profession,  were  godliness,  how  many  would 
be  numbered  among  the  children  of  God  !  But  vainly  do 
we  boast  of  our  forwardness  to  see  and  hear  the  Savior 
of  mankind,  if  we  receive  him  not  into  our  hearts  with 
sincerity  and  truth.  ''  If  a  man  love  me,  he  will  keep  my 
words — and  my  Father  will  love  him,  and  we  will  come 
unto  him,  and  make  our  abode  with  him." 


ZACCHEUS.  345 

The  crowd  hides  Christ  from  Zaccheus,  Alas,  how 
common  a  thing  is  it,  hy  the  interposition  of  the  world, 
to  be  kept  from  the  siglit  of  our  Lord !  In  vain  shall  we 
hope  for  the  blessed  vision  of  God,  if  we  follow  a  multi- 
tude to  do  evil.  Let  us  escape  from  all  sun-ounding 
obstacles,  all  tumultuous  cares,  and  press  forward  with 
ardent  expectation  towards  the  prize  of  the  high  calling 
of  God  in  Christ  Jesus. 

Zaccheus,  disappointed  of  the  object  of  his  wishes 
climbs  up  into  a  sycamore  tree  to  see  Jesus.  O  Savior, 
how  adorable  is  thy  mercy  towards  the  contrite  and  hum- 
ble spirit!  Who  ever  sought  thee  with  a  faithful  heart, 
and  was  disappointed?  The  eye  of  the  Lord  is  upon  the 
righteous — and  lighteousuess  is  by  his  mercy  imputed  to 
the  jDenitent.  How  v/as  Zaccheus  astonished  to  hear  him- 
self called  by  name,  addressed  with  kindness  and  familia- 
rity by  the  Redeemer  of  mankind !  He  who  telleth  the 
number  of  the  stars — He  who  (addressing  his  chosen 
people)  saith,  **I  have  called  thee  by  thy  name,  thou  art 
mine,"  can  speak  peace  and  comfort  to  this  descendant 
of  Abraham,  however  the  pride  of  superstitious  bigotry 
might  hold  him  in  derision.  "  Zaccheus,  make  haste  and 
come  down,  for  to-day  I  must  abide  in  thine  house."  O 
Savior,  what  dost  thou  every  day  to  thy  servants,  but  in- 
vite thyself  to  them  in  thy  word  and  ordinances.  Who 
are  we,  O  God,  that  we  should  entertain  thee,  or  that 
thou  shouldst  vouchsafe  to  bless  us  with  thy  presence  '? 
Thy  condescension  and  mercy  are  exalted  even  by  our 
unworthiness.  Though  we  are  sinners,  thy  voice  speak- 
eth  unto  us  as  unto  children.  Lord,  we  love  thee  because 
thou  hast  first  loved  us ! 

Can  we  wonder  that  Zaccheus  descended  with  haste  ? 
that  he  welcomed  the  Messiah  with  grateful  joy  1  that  he 
celebrated  as  a  festival  the  coming  of  his  sacred  guest  ? 
Had  we  been  in  liis  stead,  how  would  our  liearts  have  ex- 
ulted at  the  presence  of  our  Savior !    How  should  we  have 

15* 


346  hall's  scripture  history. 

recorded  the  incomparable  happiness  of  that  day  in  which 
the  Lord  of  heaven  was  an  inmate  under  our  roof !  Even 
now,  in  a  spiritual  sense,  we  can  receive  him  into  our 
liearts  ;  we  can  prepare  him  an  habitation  for  himself — 
unworthy  indeed,  but  such  as  he  will  not  despise  nor 
reject:  there  let  us  implore  him  to  take  up  his  abode  till 
he  calls  us  in  return  to  those  blissful  habitations,  the 
dwelling-place  of  his  holiness  and'  glory,  to  remain  with 
him,  not  for  any  limited  season,  but  through  the  countless 
ages  of  eteiTiity. 

While  the  publican  was  thus  filled  with  joy,  discontent 
rankled  in  the  hearts  of  the  Pharisees,  Pride,  envy, 
superstition,  ignorance,  combined  to  awaken  this  tumult 
in  their  souls.  Their  eye  was  evil,  because  Christ  was 
good.  Though  none  of  them  contested  with  Zaccheus 
the  distinguished  honor  of  welcoming  our  Lord  to  the 
offices  of  hospitality,  they  murmur  at  this  unworthy  host. 
They  deem  the  privilege  which  themselves  neglected 
too  gi'eat  for  a  sinner — the  very  mercy  and  condescension 
oXour  Lord  is  to  them  an  aggravation  of  torment. 

It  is  true,  the  sins  of  Zaccheus  had  been  notorious — 
theirs,  shrouded  under  a  veil  of  secrecy.  The  idea  of 
that  secrecy  leads  them  to  insult  one  whose  transgressions 
were  written  on  his  forehead.  It  is  no  less  unjust  than 
dangerous,  to  look  at  the  offences  of  others  with  scorn, 
at  the  moment  when  we  should  behold  our  own  with  sor- 
row and  humiliation. 

Thus  they  stumbled  and  fell — but  Zaccheus  arose. 
All  their  malignant  insinuations  could  neither  diminish 
his  joy  nor  abate  the  ardor  of  his  piety.  Never  was 
our  Savior  better  welcomed.  The  penitent  publican, 
from  this  auspicious  moment,  renounces  all  violence  and 
extortion.  Justice  and  liberality  are  the  handmaids  of 
faith.  Gifts  shall  be  bestowed  on  the  needy — restitution 
shall  be  made  to  the  injured.  "Behold,  Lord,  the  half  of 
my  goods  I  give  to  the  poor — and  if  I  have  taken  any 


ZACCHEUS.  347 

thing  from  any  man  by  false  accusation,  I  restore  him 
four-fold."  The  ti-ue  repentance  of  this  holy  convert  ex- 
presses itself  in  confession  of  sin,  in  atonement  for  past 
offences.  This  confession  is  full,  liberal,  open — he  scru- 
ples not  to  give  shame  to  himself,  that  he  may  ascribe 
glory  to  God.  Wo  be  to  that  fatal  bashfulness  which 
terminates  in  confusion  of  face  !  Happy  are  they  w^ho 
humble  themselves  w^hile  the  day  of  salvation  lasteth — 
so  shall  they  not  be  confounded  in  the  hour  of  solemn 
retribution,  when  the  Son  of  man  shall  come  in  the  glory 
of  his  Father,  with  his  holy  angels. 

O  blessed  and  bounteous  recompense  !  '*  This  day  is 
salvation  come  to  this  house."  That  which  thou  bestowest 
on  the  poor,  O  true  believer,  is  little  in  comparison  with 
what  thy  Saiior  bestows  on  thee.  Didst  thou  dispense 
all  the  riches  of  the  world,  it  were  nothing  when  put  in 
the  balance  with  that  which  thou  receivest.  It  is  but 
dross  which  thou  dost  give — thou  art  rewarded  with  sal- 
vation. Even  now  do  thy  faith  and  charity  obtain  for  thee 
the  assurance  of  thy  future  reward — even  now  do  the 
everlasting  gates  of  glory  fly  open  to  thy  view.  Thou 
hast  dispersed  abroad,  thou  hast  given  to  the  poor — thy 
righteousness  remaineth  for  ever — thine  horn  shall  be  ex- 
alted with  honor.  Thou  providest  thyself  bags  that  wax 
not  old — a  treasure  in  heaven  that  faileth  not — where  no 
thief  approacheth,  neither  moth  corrupteth.  The  mercy 
of  thy  Savior  calls  thee  to  a  kingdom  incorruptible,  unde- 
filed,  and  that  fadeth  not  away,  reserved  for  the  redeem- 
ed of  God. 


348  hall's   scripture  history. 


72.— HERODIAS. 


The  forerunner  of  Christ,  rigid  and  austere  in  his  man- 
ners, was  ill  fitted  for  the  refinements  of  a  court.  A 
preacher  of  repentance  could  not  hope  for  permanent 
favor  where  the  most  enormous  crimes  were  practised 
with  unblushing  audacity — where  tyranny,  usurpation, 
and  incest  bade  defiance  to  public  and  private  virtue. 
Yet  the  invitation  of  Herod  had  drawn  him  thither ;  and 
his  sanctity  and  integrity  for  a  while  maintained  in  that 
cruel  heart  a  degree  of  respect  and  veneration  for  his 
character.  **  Herod  feared  John,  knowing  that  he  was  a 
just  man,  and  a  holy;  and  he  heard  him  gladly."  But 
when  the  prophet  began  to  call  him  to  account  for  his 
adulterous  alliance — when  the  faithful  messenger  of  Hea- 
ven (in  the  true  spirit  of  his  great  j^redecessor)  feared  not 
the  face  of  man,  while  he  denounced  the  judgments 
of  God,  then  was  he  to  experience  all  the  resentment  of 
indig-nant  malice.  Another  Ahab,  at  the  instigation  of 
Jezebel,  thirsts  after  the  blood  of  this  Elijah. 

The  reformer  will  meet  with  little  success  in  his  de- 
signs, whose  zeal  is  not  seconded  by  fortitude.  The  appre- 
hension of  danger,  the  frown  of  power,  will  alter  his  senti- 
ments— he  will  turn  with  every  blast  of  fashion  or  inte- 
rest— a  wave  of  the  sea,  driven  with  the  wind  and  tossed. 
Not  so  the  Baptist.  "What  went  ye  out  into  the  wilder- 
ness to  see  ]  A  reed  shaken  with  the  wind  V*  No — a 
column  firm  and  immoveable,  against  which  the  winds 
might  blow,  and  the  waves  beat  vehemently  in  vain — 
one  who,  being  come  to  serve  the  Lord,  had  prepared  his 
heart  for  temptation — one  who  had  fixed  his  principles, 
and  considered  well  before  he  entered  upon  action — one 
whom  neither  promises  nor  threatenings  could  induce  to 
recede  from  duty,  through  hope  of  temporal  good,  or  fear 
of  temporal  evil 


HERODIAS.  349 

The  first  act  of  Herod's  cruelty  towards  the  Baptist 
was  heinous.  He  was  guilty  of  various  enormities,  but 
he  *' added  this  above  all,  that  he  shut  up  John  in  prison." 
The  violence  offered  to  the  ambassador  of  God  was  an  act 
of  open  hostility  against  the  Majesty  of  heaven.  The 
tyrant  well  knew  the  reputation  of  this  saint  of  God — he 
could  not  but  see  how  odious  it  would  be  to  persecute 
the  preacher  for  that  just  reproof  which  his  crimes  had 
too  well  deserved.  But  the  subject  of  Herodias  was  a 
tender  point,  on  which  the  tetrarch  was  not  disposed  to 
hear  the  law,  because  he  was  not  disposed  to  do  it.  He 
was  determined  to  persevere  in  what  was  wrong — and 
his  once-loved  monitor  soon  became  insupportable.  O 
servant  of  the  Highest^  who  would  not  rather  share  thy 
prison  than  glitter  in  all  the  magnificence  of  the  throne 
of  Herod  1  Who  can  behold  thee  without  admiration, 
sequestered  once  more  from  the  w^orld,  and  meditating 
on  that  blissful  place  and  happy  society  to  which  thou 
art  hastening  1 

Herod  had  thrown  John  into  prison — but  this  would 
not  satisfy  Herodias.  Still  she  seemed  to  hear  that  awful 
voice  reproaching  her  for  her  crimes,  and  proclaiming- 
the  indignation  of  heaven.  Nothing  but  the  blood  of  the 
prophet  could  appease  her  fears,  or  disarm  her  resent- 
ment. She  had  a  quaiTel  against  him,  and  would  have 
killed  him — but  for  a  while  she  could  not.  The  partner 
of  her  crimes  is  easily  won  over  to  her  purpose.  Were 
it  not  for  fear  of  the  people,  John  should  soon  be  murder- 
ed— but  the  policy  of  Herod  as  yet  prevails  over  his 
malice.  The  reputation  of  the  Baptist  was  such  as  to 
awaken  all  his  fears.  The  tyrant  was  not  unacquainted 
with  the  temper  and  disposition  of  the  Jews  ;  who,  not- 
withstanding their  natural  depravity,  could  not  but  honor 
that  exalted  virtue  which  feared  not  tlie  face  of  man 
when  called  upon  to  assert  the  glory  of  God. 

What  a  conflict  is  in  the  bosom  of  a  sinner,  even  when 


3o0  hall's  scripture  history. 

meditating  crimes  as  yet  not  perpetrated !  On  one  side 
he  is  urged  by  his  evil  inclinations,  and  the  suggestions 
of  the  tempter — on  the  other  he  is  alarmed  by  the  stings 
of  conscience,  by  remorse  and  hon'or.  "  There  is  no 
peace,  saith  my  God,  to  the  wicked."  Herod  fears  the 
people — he  regards  not  the  Almighty.  What  could  an 
offended  people  effect,  in  comparison  with  the  just  dis- 
pleasure of  heaven  ]  They  might  have  recourse  to  arms 
— stir  uj)  mutinies  and  tumults — disturb,  perhaps  over- 
turn the  government.  Be  it  so.  The  wrath  of  God  can 
arm  the  universal  world  against  the  sinner,  can  make 
every  creature  a  weapon  for  the  extirpation  of  his  ene- 
mies. The  day  of  the  Lord  is  great  and  very  temble, 
and  who  shall  abide  it  ?  O  wretched  Herod,  who  fearest 
temporal  disgi-ace  and  danger,  but  wast  not  dismayed 
with  the  apprehensions  of  eternal  torment ! 

The  malice  of  Herodias  is  still  on  the  watch.  She  is 
determined,  sooner  or  later,  to  effect  her  revengeful- 
purpose.  As  if  sin  could  not  be  committed  with  im- 
punity while  the  Baptist  was  living  to  hear  it — as 
if  his  blood  would  not  cry  louder  than  his  voice,  and 
reprove  this  unhallowed  union.  On  the  birth-day  of 
Herod  a  magnificent  feast  is  set  before  the  lords,  high 
captains,  and  chief  estates  of  G  alilee.  That  day  shall  call 
a  martyr  to  heaven,  and  stamp  with  indelible  infamy 
the  name  of  Herodias.  A  deed  shall  be  done,  which, 
while  it  fills  the  hearers  with  hoiTor  and  astonishment, 
shall  teach  mankind  that  the  greatest  of  prophets  and 
best  of  men  are  not  more  secure  from  violence  than 
natural  death,  if  with  fidelity  and  courage  they  execute 
the  trust  committed  to  them. 

Salome,  the  daughter  of  Herodias  by  her  lawful  hus- 
band, is  present  at  this  pompous  festivity,  and  dances 
before  the  assembled  guests.  In  all  ages  and  nations 
this  hath  been  a  method  of  expressing  joy  and  gladness. 
But  that  a  royal  princess  should  appear  in  this  character 


HERODIAS.  351 

before  a  set  of  revellers  in  tlieir  debauch,  became  only 
the  daughter  of  an  Herodias,  educated  by  such  a  mother. 

Herod,  inflamed  with  wine  and  thrown  oif  his  guard 
by  the  performance  of  Salome,  utters  an  imprudent  pro- 
mise, and  confirms  it  with  an  oath — "  Whatsoever  thou 
shalt  ask  of  me,  I  will  give  it  thee,  even  to  the  half  of 
my  kingdom  !"  O  Salome,  was  not  this  suflicient  I  Has 
not  the  king  offered  thee  a  boon  more  than  equal  to  thy 
wishes  1  Wilt  thou  require  something  yet  more  valuable 
than  the  ivhole  of  his  dominions,  did  they  extend  to  the 
utmost  limits  of  the  world !  Will  nothing  satisfy  thee 
but  the  honor,  the  conscience,  the  soul  of  thine  adopted 
father  ]  Alas,  such  is  the  price  which  sin  never  fails  to 
ask,  and  sinners  are  to(5  ready  to  bestow !  The  glorious 
opportunity  of  revenge  was  not  to  be  lost.  Herodias  is 
consulted  by  her  daughter,  and  the  tender  Salome  re- 
turns to  the  banquet  athirst  for  blood — "  Give  me  in  a 
charger  the  head  of  John  the  Baptist — of  one  whom  thou 
knowest  to  be  innocent,  upright,  holy.  Make  me  this 
sacrifice  and  I  am  content."  With  such  eagerness  and 
sagacity  doth  the  adulteress  hunt  for  the  precious  life  ! 
Proverbs,  6  :  26. 

Bad  as  Herod  was,  the  petition  of  Salome  at  first  shock- 
ed him.  "  The  king  was  sorry."  He  thought  of  John's 
character,  the  atrociousness  of  the  murder,  and  the  opi- 
nion which  the  world  would  entertain  of  the  murderer. 
But  the  tide  which  had  ebbed  soon  flowed  again,  and 
obliterated  in  a  moment  what  had  been  written  on  the 
sand  during  its  recess.  The  love  of  Herodias — the  ad- 
dress of  her  daughter — the  festivity  of  the  season — the 
presence  of  the  assembled  nobles,  who  had  witnessed  the 
promise,  and  might  approve  the  proposal — all  these  cir- 
cumstances on  the  side  of  the  temptation  prevail.  Herod 
himself,  on  recollection,  thinks  that  the  obligation  of  his 
oath  will  afford  him  a  better  excuse  than  can  hereafter 
oc.ur,  for  complying  with  the  importunity  of  Herodias, 


352  hall's  scripture  history. 

and  silencing  a  monitor  troublesome  to  theni  both.  Tims, 
if  any  extraordinary  wickedness  is  to  be  effected,  re- 
ligion must  be  made  the  pretext.  As  if  wrong  became 
light  when  acted  in  the  name  of  God — as  if  it  were  more 
acceptable  in  his  sight  to  massacre  a  prophet  than  to  re- 
pent of  an  inconsiderate  promise. 

The  Baptist's  fate  is  determined.  "  Immediately  the 
king  sent  an  executioner,  and  commanded  his  head  to  be 
brought — and  he  went  and  beheaded  him  in  the  prison." 
The  deed  of  darkness  was  done  in  its  proper  season.  At 
midnight  the  blessed  martyr  is  awakened  from  that  sleep 
which  truth  and  innocence  often  secure  to  their  possessor 
in  the  most  perilous  situation.  Well  do  the  generality  of 
mankind  implore  the  Almighty  to  spare  them  from  sud- 
den death,  lest  it  should  surj^rise  them  in  one  of  their 
many  unguarded  hours.  But  to  this  holy  prisoner  no 
moment  could  be  unseasonable.  He  had  finished  the 
work  which  God  had  given  him  to  do.  He  had  kept  the 
faith,  and  preserved  a  conscience  void  of  offence.  He 
had  done  his  duty ;  and  he  waited  daily  for  his  departure. 
Now  therefore  is  he  called  from  his  station  with  honor, 
to  quit  the  well-fought  field  for  the  palace  of  the  Great 
King — to  refresh  himself,  after  the  toil  of  a  laborious 
day,  with  the  never-failing  streams  of  life  and  immortali- 
ty— to  exchange  his  blood-stained  armor  for  a  robe  of 
glory — to  receive  an  eternal  reward  for  his  temporary 
labors — to  sit  down  with  Abraham,  and  Isaac,  and  Jacob, 
in  the  kingdom  of  God — and,  as  the  friend  of  the  bride- 
gi'oom,  to  enter  into  the  joy  of  his  Lord,  From  the 
gloom  and  confinement  of  a  prison  he  passed  to  the  lib- 
erty and  light  of  heaven — and  while  malice  was  gratified 
with  the  sight  of  his  head,  and  his  body  was  canned  in 
silence  to  the  grave,  his  triumphant  spirit  repaired  to  a 
Court  where  mercy  and  justice  are  enthroned  together 
with  power — where  no  Herodias  thirsts  after  the  blood 
of  a  prophet — where  he  who  hath  labored  with  diligence 


THE    MULTITUDE    FED.  353 

fjid  sincerity  in  the  work  of  reformation,  cannot  fail  of 
welcome  acceptance — where  the  holiness,  and  zeal,  and 
constancy  of  the  saints  are  rewarded  with  blissful  immor- 
tality— where  the  righteous  "  are  crowned,  and  receive 
palms  from  the  )Son  of  God,  whom  they  have  confessed 
in  the  world." 


73.— THE  MULTITUDE  FED. 

The  Savior  of  mankind,  though  on  some  occasions  the 
object  of  popular  fury  unjustly  and  falsely  excited  by 
others,  was  followed  by  an  admiring  multitude.  Their 
well-meant  importunity  caused  him  to  remove  from  the 
land  to  the  sea.*  Still  they  pursue  him  with  eyes  of 
eager  anxiety,  and  when  they  perceive  his  place  of  desti- 
nation, they  are  present,  ready  to  receive  him  at  his  land- 
ing. The  winds  or  oars  did  not  so  swiftly  drive  on  the 
ship  as  desire  and  zeal  impelled  these  ardent  followers. 
Nothing  is  more  acceptable  to  God  than  our  importuni- 
ty in  seeking  him.  If  he  withdraw  himself  for  a  while,  it 
is  with  this  view,  that  we  may  yet  more  earnestly  seek 
his  face  and  pant  after  the  blessings  of  his  presence. 
Jesus  seeing  a  great  multitude,  passes  from  the  ship  to 
the  shore.  The  same  motives  which  brought  him  fi'om 
heaven  to  earth,  brought  him  also  from  sea  to  land — 
compassion  for  the  souls  and  bodies  of  m.ankind — that  he 
might  instruct,  and  comfort,  and  heal,  and  feed  them. 

Amidst  the  assembled  people,  no  doubt  many  w^ere 
laboring  under  divers  infirmities.     What  marvel,  if  the 

*  By  the  Sea  is  meant  the  Lake  of  Galilee,  or  Gennesareth,  on  the 
Vicstem  side  of  which  stood  the  city  of  Tiberiae :  hence  the  lake  itsi'lf  is 
called  the  Sea  of  Tibcria?,  John,  0:1. 


354  hall's   scripture   history. 

report  of  Christ's  amazing  miracles  attracted  to  him 
those  who  stood  in  need  of  healing?  They  fomid  advan- 
tages beyond  the  power  of  human  aid — beyond  all  tliat 
could  be  derived  from  the  wisdom  and  exjDerience  of 
mortals.  Even  now,  as  heretofore,  O  Lord,  thou  art  our 
all-perfect,  and  bounteous,  and  benevolent  physician, 
who  healest  all  our  diseases,  and  takest  away  all  our  in- 
firmities. O  that  we  would  but  have  recourse  to  thee  in 
all  our  spiritual  maladies !  It  would  then  be  as  impossi- 
ble for  us  to  be  without  help,  as  for  thee  to  be  without 
power  and  mercy. 

He  who  had  filled  the  souls  of  his  hearers  with  a  spi- 
ritual repast,  will  now  approve  himself  to  be  the  great 
Father  and  Preserver  of  the  world,  by  whose  liberal  pro- 
vision mankind  is  sustained.  The  eyes  of  all  wait  on 
thee,  O  Lord,  and  thou  givest  them  meat  in  due  season. 
The  eyes  of  all  wait  upon  thee :  thou  givest  food  to  all 
flesh,  for  thy  mercy  endureth  for  ever.  Thou  openest 
thine  hand,  and  fillest  all  things  living  with  plenteousness. 

The  apostles,  who  had  noted  the  diligent  attendance 
of  the  multitude,  now  (towards  evening)  come  to  their 
gracious  Master  in  their  behalf.  **  This  is  a  desert  place, 
and  the  time  is  far  sj)ent :  send  the  multitude  away,  that 
they  may  go  into  the  country  round  about,  and  into  the 
villages,  and  buy  themselves  bread;  for  they  have  no- 
thing to  eat."  How  well  does  it  become  spiritual  guides 
to  regard  the  bodily  necessities  of  the  people  of  God! 
How  just  reason  have  the  people  to  expect  from  their 
teachers  a  due  proportion  of  charitable  care  !  L^nmeet 
parsimony  here,  if  the  means  are  afforded  us,  is  not 
merely  odious,  but  sinful.  The  same  voice  which  com- 
mands us  to  continue  instant  in  prayer,  bids  us  distribute 
to  the  necessities  of  the  saints — admonishes  us  that  we 
be  given  to  hospitality. 

The  place  was  desert — the  time,  evening.  Doubtless 
our  Savior  made  choice  of  both  these,  that  there  might 


THE    MULTITUDE    FED.  355 

be  more  necessity  for  his  miraculous  aid,  and  greater 
evidence  of  his  power.  When  other  means  fail,  the 
Almighty  is  ever  ready  to  assist  and  befriend  us — it  is  on 
such  occasions  that  we  may  safely  ask  and  expect  his 
aid.  Superfluous  benefits  can  neither  be  so  earnestly  de- 
sired nor  so  earnestly  sought,  nor  even  so  gratefully  re- 
ceived from  the  hands  of  mercy.  "  Cast  thy  burden  up- 
on the  Lord,  and  he  shall  sustain  thee."  Hence  is  it 
that  the  divine  assistance  comes  ever  in  the  greatest  ex- 
igency of  our  trials — when  our  faith,  our  hope,  our  zeal 
have  been  exercised — when  salvation  itself  is  rendered 
doubly  welcome. 

The  disciples,  in  a  kind  concern  for  the  necessities  of 
the  multitude,  solicit  their  dismission.  How  are  they 
astonished  at  the  reply  of  their  gracious  Master !  "  They 
need  not  depart — give  ye  them  lo  eat."  He  knew,  though 
they  were  ignorant,  what  supply  he  intended  for  his  peo- 
ple. His  wisdom  prepared  his  servants  for  the  intended 
miracle — he  would  perform  it  after  mature  deliberation 
— not  abruptly,  nor  without  duly  intimating  his  purpose. 
Meanwhile  his  followers,  adhering  to  the  literal  sense  of 
his  command,  urged  their  inability  to  comply  with  it — 
"  We  have  here  but  five  barley  loaves  and  two  small 
fishes."  Alas,  how  slender  a  provision  was  this,  even  for 
our  Lord  and  his  own  disciples  !  Though  every  beast 
of  the  forest  was  thine,  O  Savior,  and  the  cattle  upon  a 
thousand  hills — thine  the  com  which  covereth  the  whole 
surface  of  the  earth — thine  all  the  fowls  of  the  air,  and 
whatsoever  passes  through  the  seas — though  thou  couldst 
at  thy  pleasure  have  assembled  innumerable  quails,  or 
rained  down  manna  from  heaven,  yet  art  thou  contented 
with  the  humble  portion  of  five  barley  loaves  and  two 
small  fishes  !  Certainly  this  was  thy  tvill,  not  thy  need — 
thou  wouldst  teach  us,  that  our  appetites  may  be  relieved, 
not  pampered — that  our  coiTuptible  body  is  not  to  be 
our  master,  much  less  our  god ;  that  our  glory  may  not 


356  hall's  scripture  hlstory. 

be  our  shame,  that  our  end  may  not  be  destructioiL 
Meat  was  ordained  for  the  body,  the  body  for  the  soul, 
the  soul  for  God.  The  more  we  are  devoted  to  heaven- 
ly things,  the  less  shall  we  be  attached  to  what  is  earthly. 
What  shall  this  world  be  to  us,  when  we  are  all  spirit  1 
According  to  the  degi'ee  of  our  intellectual  purity  will 
be  our  indifference  to  bodily  gi'atifications. 

When  we  look  with  the  bodily  eye  on  an  object,  we 
see  an  impossibility  of  those  effects  which  faith  can 
easily  apprehend,  and  omnipotence  more  easily  produce. 
In  such  cases,  the  virtue  is  not  in  the  means,  but  in  the 
Ap-ent — "  Brino^  them  hither  to  me."  O  blessed  Lord, 
how  hadst  thou  implanted  in  the  hearts  of  thy  disciples 
the  duties  of  mercy  and  compassion !  They  regard  not 
their  own  necessity — they  plead  not  for  themselves,  nor 
for  the  relief  of  their  hunger,  but  cheerfully  contribute 
the  whole  of  their  humble  store,  willingly  yield  to  thy 
commands,  and  trust  to  thy  mercy  for  their  sustenance. 
O  God,  when  thou  callest  on  us  to  relieve  the  necessities 
of  our  brethren,  let  us  not  be  more  thrifty  than  obedient 
— let  not  our  eye  be  evil,  while  thou  art  good.  Better 
had  it  been  for  us  to  have  wanted  those  gifts  ourselves, 
which  we  ungratefully  withhold  from  thee. 

The  great  Master  of  the  feast  marshals  his  guests. 
"  He  commanded  the  multitude  to  sit  down  on  the 
gi-ass."  They  obey,  in  faith  and  joyful  expectation.  Not 
a  doubt,  not  a  cavil  is  heard  among  so  many  thousands. 
All  meekly  look  up  to  Chnst  for  the  means  of  their  sup- 
port, and  wait  upon  his  merciful  hand.  It  is  easy  to  pre- 
serve our  serenity  in  the  midst  of  abundance — but  in 
the  hour  of  want  and  adversity  to  depend  on  Him  who 
is  invisible,  to  fly  to  him  for  succor,  and  rest  with  con- 
fidence on  his  promises,  this  is  a  true  and  noble  act  of 
faith,  worthy  of  that  God  who  inspires,  beholds,  ap- 
proves it. 

Christ,  who  could  have  multiplied  the  bread  in  absence, 


THE    iMULTITUDE    FED.  3-57 

or  in  silence,  takes  and  blesses  it  before  them  all — that  he 
might  at  once  show  to  his  admiring  guests  both  the  Au- 
thor and  the  means  of  this  increase.  It  is  thy  blessing, 
O  God,  that  maketli  rich.  Some  languish  in  the  midst 
of  abundance — others  are  cheerful  and  happy  in  the 
midst  of  poverty.  Second  causes  must  not  be  denied 
tlieir  place ;  but  the  over-ruling  power  is  from  above. 
Nothing  can  take  away  from  the  right,  from  the  pre- 
eminence of  the  Creator. 

"  There  is  that  scattereth,  and  yet  increaseth."  It  is 
the  grain  cast  into  the  fun'ows  of  the  earth,  and  not  that 
deposited  in  the  storehouse,  which  yields  its  rich  pro- 
duce to  the  husbandman.  Christ,  wlien  he  multiplied  tlie 
loaves  and  fishes,  gave  them  to  his  attendants,  not  fijr 
their  own  use,  but  that  they  might  freely  dispense  them 
to  the  people.  Away  with  our  weak  and  parsimonious 
distrust — God  himself,  who  hath  declared  that  it  is  more 
blessed  to  give  than  to  receive,  will  recompense  the 
bounty  of  his  servants.  Nothing  can  enrich  them  like 
beneficence.  Blessed  is  he  that  considereth  the  poor — 
his  children  shall  not  be  forsaken — his  seed  shall  not  beor 

o 

their  bread.    * 

The  amazed  disciples  set  the  miraculous  food  before 
their  guests.  Not  even  Judas  reserves  a  share  to  him- 
self till  our  Savior's  commands  are  literally  obeyed. 
The  whole  multitude  eat,  and  are  filled — twelve  baskets 
of  fragments  remain,  when  all  are  satisfied.  O  work  of 
boundless  omnipotence!  The  right  hand  of  the  Lord  is 
exalted — the  right  hand  of  the  Lord  bringeth  mighty 
things  to  pass.  If  he  prepare  a  table  for  his  Israel  in  the 
desert,  their  bread  shall  be  the  food  of  angels — a  no  less 
marvellous  extent  of  his  bounty  provides  for  the  suste- 
nance of  five  thousand  men,  besides  women  and  children. 
The  measure  of  his  beneficence  cannot  but  run  over.  Not 
according  to  our  merits,  but  his  mercy,  do  we  receive 
blessings  at  his  hands.    O  Lord,  we  are  full  of  thy  good- 


35S  hall's    SCRinUKE   kistorv. 

ness — let  our  hearts  and  voices  be  full  of  thy  praise  ! 
Yet  while  we  wonder  at  this  thy  miracle,  O  merciful 
Savior,  let  us  not  forget  the  daily  exertions  of  thy  munifi- 
cence. Whence  is  it  that  we  have  our  continual  provision  ] 
One  and  the  same  gi-acious  hand  does  all.  If  the  Israel- 
ites are  fed  with  manna  in  the  desert,  and  with  com  in 
Canaan,  both  proceed  from  the  same  power  and  the  same 
bounty.  If  the  disciples  and  the  people  are  fed  by  the  bread 
multiplied,  and  we  by  the  grain  multij^lied,  both  are  the  act 
of  the  same  omnipotence.  What  is  this  but  a  perjDetual 
miracle,  O  God,  which  thou  workest  for  our  preservation  1 
Without  thee,  there  is  no  more  power  in  the  grain  to  mul- 
tijjly,  than  in  the  bread.  It  is  thou  that  givest  it  a  body 
at  thine  own  pleasure,  and  to  every  seed  his  own  body. 
Why  should  thy  goodness  be  less  magnified  because  it 
is  universal  %  Thou  visitest  the  earth,  and  blessest  it — 
thou  makest  it  very  plenteous — thou  preparest  com,  for 
so  thou  providest  for  it — thou  waterest  her  fuiTows — 
thou  sendest  rain  into  the  little  valleys  thereof — thou 
makest  it  soft  with  the  drops  of  rain,  and  blessest  the  in- 
crease of  it — thou  crownest  the  year  with  thy  goodness — 
the  folds  are  full  of  sheep — the  valleys  are  covered  over 
with  com — they  shout  for  joy — they  also  sing  ! 


74.— CHRIST  WALKING  ON  THE  SEA. 

Both  the  created  world  in  general,  and  its  component 
parts,  are  in  equal  subjection  to  the  Maker  of  all  things. 
Our  Savior,  who  had  approved  his  power  on  the  land, 
will  now  show  it  with  respect  to  the  air  and  waters.  He 
who  had  preserved  the  multitude  from  the  peril  of  hun- 
ger in  the  desert,  will  now  preserve  his  disciples  ffom 
the  peril  of  the  tempest  in  the  sea. 


CHRIST    WALKING    ON    THE    SEA.  359 

The  day  was  now  far  spent;  and  at  this  unusual  hour 
our  blessed  Lord  constrains  his  disciples  to  depart,  and 
to  leave  him  in  mysterious  solitude.  The  people,  whose 
love  and  thankfulness  were  now  raised  to  the  highest 
pitch,  would  have  forced  on  his  acceptance  those  honors 
which  had  so  long  been  usurped  from  the  family  of 
David.  But  the  kingdom  of  our  Savior  was  not  of  this 
world.  To  avoid  the  proffered  sceptre  he  retires  in 
haste  from  the  multitude,  and  withdraws  into  the  lonely 
wilderness.  When  the  glory  of  the  world  pressed  upon 
him,  he  fled  away  from  an  earthly  diadem — when  the 
hour  of  his  passioii  was  come,  he  voluntarily  sun-endered 
himself  to  his  persecutors.  And  is  there  less  danger 
in  suffering,  than  in  outward  dignity  and  prosperity] 
Blessed  Jesus,  why  do  we  dote  on  those  earthly  distinc- 
tions which  thou  didst  so  studiously  avoid?  How  can 
we  believe,  who  receive  honor  one  of  another,  and  seek 
not  the  honor  which  cometh  from  God  only? 

Devotion,  as  well  as  humility,  draws  our  Lord  aside 
from  his  followers — he  went  alone  up  to  the  mountain 
to  pray.  Thou,  O  Savior,  to  whom  the  gi'eatest  throng 
was  a  solitude,  when  compared  with  the  host  of  angels 
that  surround  thy  throne  of  gloiy;  thou,  who  wert  inca- 
pable of  distraction  from  thy  gracious  Father  with  whom 
thou  wert  ever  one;  wouldst  yet  retire,  as  man,  for  the 
opportunity  of  prayer — to  teach  us,  who  are  ever  assault- 
ed by  wandering  thoughts  and  the  intrusions  of  a  giddy 
world,  how  best  to  frame  our  minds  to  address  the 
majesty  of  Heaven.  Thus  didst  thou  pray  for  us,  who 
are  unable  of  ourselves  to  ask — unworthy  to  be  heard 
but  by  the  efficacy  of  thy  prayers.  Lord,  how  assiduous 
should  we  be  in  our  supplications  to  the  throne  of  mercy, 
when  thou,  who  art  the  God  of  all  power,  where  thou 
misfhtost  have  commanded,  wouldst  entreat?  Therefore 
do  we  pray,  because  thou  hast  left  us  the  example — 
therefore  do   we  hope  to  be  answered  in  our  prayers, 


SCO  hall's  scriptuhe  history. 

because  thou  didst  pray  for  us  on  eaitli,  and  no^v  makest 
intercession  for  us  in  heaven. 

The  night  approached.  The  disciples  had  long  waited 
for  their  Master,  and  could  not  without  regret  forsake 
the  shore — but  his  command  was  positive,  and  admitted 
of  no  evasion.  They  were  "constrained"  to  depart.  The 
moments  of  their  exjDectation,  so  tedious  to  themselves, 
were  employed  by  our  blessed  Lord  in  holding  converse 
with  his  Father.  He  was  on  the  mount,  they  on  the  sea 
— yet,  while  he  was  thus  employed  in  his  sublime  con- 
templations, he  could  see  his  absent  disciples,  and  pity 
them  while  tossed  on  the  waves.  That  all-piercing  eye 
is  restrained  by  no  limits.  At  once  he  beholds  the  high- 
est heavens,  and  the  rnidst  of  the  sea;  the  glory  of  his 
Father  and  the  misery  of  his  servants.  Whatever  pros- 
pects present  themselves  to  his  view,  he  can  bestow  the 
tenderest  compassion  on  the  distressed  of  mankind. 

How  much  more,  O  Savior,  from  the  height  of  thine 
eternal  felicity,  dost  thou  look  down  on  us  thy  poor  crea- 
tures, buffeted  by  the  unquiet  waves  of  this  troublesome 
Avorld,  by  the  rude  and  boisterous  storms  of  affliction  1 
Thou  didst  foresee  the  toil  and  danger  of  these  thy  dis- 
ciples— and  yet  wouldst  send  them  away,  that  they  might 
experience  the  horrors  of  the  tempest.  Thou  who 
couldst  prevent  our  sufferings  by  thy  power,  wilt  permit 
them  in  thy  wisdom — that  thou  mayst  glorify  thy  mercy 
in  our  deliverance,  and  confirm  our  faith  by  the  event  of 
our  calamities. 

How  do  all  things  apparently  conspire  to  fill  the  disci- 
ples with  consternation!  The  night  was  dark  and  tem- 
pestuous ;  their  Master  was  absent,  the  sea  was  strong, 
the  winds  high  and  contrary.  Had  their  Lord  been  with 
them,  howsoever  the  elements  had  raged,  they  would 
have  considered  themselves  secure.  Had  the  waves 
been  tranquil,  or  the  winds  propitious,  they  might  have 
remained  in  a  state  of  serenity  durino-  his  absence — now. 


CHRIST    WALKING    ON    THE    SEA.  361 

the  season,  the  wind,  the  sea,  and  the  retirement  of  their 
Master  contribute  to  render  them  miserable.  Sometimes 
the  providence  of  God  thinks  fit  so  to  direct  the  course 
of  events,  that  to  his  most  faithful  servants  there  appears 
no  glimpse  of  comfort;  but  such  a  universal  gloominess, 
as  if  heaven  and  earth  had  conspired  to  overwhelm 
them  with  sorrow.  Thou,  O  Savior,  in  the  stormy  night 
of  thine  adversity,  in  the  bitteraess  of  thine  agonized 
spirit,  didst  exclaim  with  accents  of  despair,  **My  God, 
my  God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?"  Yet  in  all  these 
extremities  of  ^\Tetchedness  our  heavenly  Father  de- 
signs the  increase  of  his  glory  and  ours — he  has  in  view 
the  triumph  of  our  faith,  the  reward  of  our  victory. 

Through  the  tedious  and  threatening  night  the  disci- 
ples are  beset  with  danger  and  horror,  abandoned  as  it 
were  to  the  fury  of  the  winds  and  waves — but  in  the 
fourth  watch,  when  they  are  wearied  with  labor  and  sor- 
row, they  hear  the  voice  of  their  gracious  Redeemer. 

At  their  entrance  into  the  ship,  at  the  rising  of  the 
tempest,  at  the  close  of  the  day,  they  heard  not  of  their 
Master — but  when  they  had  long  been  vexed  by  the 
winds  and  waves,  and  their  own  troubled  thoughts,  at 
the  dawn  of  day,  and  not  till  then,  Jesus  came  unto 
them.  He  had  purposely  absented  himself,  that  he  might 
exercise  their  patience — that  he  might  teach  them  to 
wait  on  divine  providence — that  their  devotions  might 
be  animated,  not  weakened,  by  delay — that  they  might 
give  more  grateful  welcome  to  their  deliverance.  Thus, 
O  God,  even  thus  thou  dost  at  this  hour  deal  with  thy  ser- 
vants. We  are  often  cast  upon  the  sea,  the  winds  rage, 
the  billows  swell,  and  thine  absence  heightens  our  sor- 
rows— but  he  that  endureth  to  the  end,  the  same  shall 
be  saved.  Heaviness  may  continue  for  the  night,  but  joy 
Cometh  in  the  morning.  O  let  us  not  faint  under  adversity 
— but  let  us  wait  for  thee,  depend  on  thy  mercy,  and  trust 
in  thee  with  undaunted  patience  and  holy  resolution ! 

Script.  Hist.  10 


3G2  hall's  scripture  history. 

Thou  earnest  at  last,  O  Savior — but  yet  so,  that  at 
first  there  was  more  of  dread  than  of  joy  in  thy  pre- 
sence. Thy  coming  was  both  miraculous  and  fearful. 
The  God  of  elements  passed  through  the  air — walked 
upon  the  waters — making  no  impression  on  that  liquid 
pavement,  but  consolidating  the  v/aves,  that  they  might 
yield  a  firm  support  to  his  sacred  feet.  Alas,  why  are 
the  disciples  teiTified  at  his  appearance  1  What  object 
could  be  so  pleasing  to  their  eyes  as  their  beloved  Mas- 
ter 1  What  could  be  a  greater  proof  of  his  Divine  power, 
than  was  presented  to  their  view  at  this  moment  1  The 
waters  saw  thee,  O  God,  the  waters  saw  thee,  and  were 
afraid — the  depths  also  were  troubled.  The  floods  are 
risen,  O  Lord — the  floods  have  lift  up  their  voice — the 
floods  lift  up  their  waves.  The  waves  of  the  sea  are 
mighty  and  rage  horribly — but  yet  the  Lord,  who  dwell- 
eth  on  high,  is  mightier. 

Lo,  they  who  had  most  especial  occasion  of  joy  and 
grateful  adoration,  are  terrified  and  afli'ighted — not  at 
the  coming  of  their  Lord,  but  at  the  maimer  of  his  com- 
ing. The  wonderful  works  of  God,  if  we  see  them  not 
with  the  eye  of  faith,  are  liable  to  dangerous  misappre- 
hension. The  very  sunbeams  to  which  we  are  indebted 
for  our  sight,  if  we  view  them  intensely,  dazzle  and  over- 
power us.  Wretched  mortals  are  too  apt,  on  all  occa- 
sions, to  question  the  most  salutary  truths,  to  fly  from 
their  own  safety,  to  mistake  the  kind  intentions  of  their 
best  Benefactor. 

]>ut  ichy  are  the  discij^les  thus  troubled  ]  "  They  sup- 
posed that  they  had  seen  a  spirit."  That  there  hath 
been  such  intercourse  between  the  visible  and  invisible? 
world,  and  their  respective  inhabitants,  has  been  a  ti*uth 
imdoubtedly  received,  though  in  the  dark  times  of  super- 
stition much  fraud  and  collusion  were  mingled  with  re- 
ality. Crafty  men  and  lying  spirits  agreed  together  to 
abuse  a  credulous  world.     But  even  where  there  was  not 


CHHIST    WALKING    ON    THE    SExi.  363 

trutli,  there  was  horror.  The  good  angels  themselves 
were  not  seen  without  fear — their  appearance  was  deem- 
ed a  prelude  to  immediate  death — how  much  more  were 
the  malignant  powers  of  darkness  objects  of  terror  and 
consternation  1 

Yet  wherefore  should  they  fear  1  Evil  spirits  are  pre- 
sent, though  unseen — equally  armed  for  mischief,  though 
unknown  and  unsuspected.  Visibility  adds  nothing  to  their 
power  or  their  malice.  Had  the  eyes  of  the  disciples  been 
opened  they  would,  like  the  servant  of  the  prophet,  have 
seen  more  with  them  than  against  them — a  sure  though  in- 
visible guard  of  more  powerful  spirits,  and  themselves  un- 
der the  protection  of  the  God  of  spirits,  who,  singly,  can 
control  all  the  principalities  of  hell.  But  their  faith  was 
in  the  bud,  and  the  appearance  of  this  dreaded  object 
was  sudden,  and  afforded  no  time  of  recollection  to  their 
thoughts. 

O  the  wickedness  of  our  frail  nature,  so  easily  terrified 
at  the  idea  of  those  adversaries  whom  we  profess  daily 
to  resist  and  vanquish — against  whom  the  decree  of  God 
hath  opposed  us  in  an  everlasting  conflict !  Are  not  these 
the  men  commissioned  by  their  Lord,  not  only  to  heal 
the  sick,  but  to  cast  out  devils  ]  Are  not  these  the  men 
who  returned  with  joy,  and  boasted  of  their  victory  over 
the  emissaries  of  Satan  1  Yet  now,  when  their  disturbed 
imagination  represents  to  them  an  unembodied  phantom, 
they  are  overwhelmed  with  sudden  fear.  What  power 
there  is  in  the  eye  to  betray  the  heart ! 

It  was  high  time  for  our  Savior  to  speak.  The  tem- 
pest, the  darkness,  the  supposed  apparition  had  almost 
bereaved  his  disciples  of  their  senses.  How  sweet,  how 
seasonable  is  his  mercy  !  How  are  their  imaginary  ter- 
rors mitigated  and  done  away  by  the  sound  of  his  gra- 
cious voice  !  "  Be  of  good  cheer — it  is  I — be  not  afraid." 
There  needs  no  other  cordial  to  the  drooping  soul.  In 
the  worst  of  Our  afHictions  let  us   but  be  assured  that 


364  hall's  scRirxuRE  history. 

diriyt  is  with  us,  and  in  spite  of  liell  we  are  safe.  God 
is  our  hope  and  strength,  a  very  present  help  in  trouble. 
Therefore  we  ^vill  not  fear,  tliough  the  earth  be  removed^ 
and  thouGrh  the  hills  be  carried  into  the  midst  of  the  sea 
— though  the  waters  rage  and  swell — though  the  moun- 
tains shake  at  the  tempest  of  the  same. 

Thy  word,  O  blessed  Jesus,  was  evidence  enough — so- 
well  were  the  disciples  acquainted  with  the  accents  of 
their  Master  that  their  sorrow  is  at  once  turned  into  joy. 
Thou  art  the  good  Shej^herd.  We  are  not  of  thy  flock 
if  we  know  not  thy  voice.  The  same  Divine  person  who 
spake  unto  Moses,  *'  I  am  that  I  am/*  saith  unto  his  ter- 
rified disciple,  "  It  is  I — I,  your  friend  and  Master^ — I,, 
the  Creator  and  Redeemer  of  the  world — I,  the  com- 
uTander  of  winds  and  waters — I,  the  sovereign  Lord  of 
heaven  and  earth — I,  the  God  of  spirits."  O  powerful 
and  gracious  word  of  a  compassionate  Savior,  able  to 
calm  all  tempests,  able  to  revive  all  hearts — "  Be  of  good 
cheer — it  is  I — be  not  afraid." 


75.— PETER  WALKING   ON    THE    SEA, 

No  sooner  hath  Jesus  said,  **It  is  I,"  than  Peter,  with 
all  the  impatience  of  joy,  calls  him  by  the  name  of 
"  Master."  On  every  occasion  the  fervent  zeal  of  this 
apostle  made  him  foremost  in  bearing  testimony  to  his 
Lord.  While  his  companions  were  silent,  Avhile  as 
yet  our  Savior  was  at  a  distance  from  the  shattered 
vessel,  Peter  owns  his  Master  and  requests  permis- 
sion to  approach  him.  Yet  how  is  this  love  and  cou- 
rage contrasted  by  doubt  and  fear!  What  a  mixture 
do  we  behold,  even  in  this  illustrious  disciple,  of  faith 


PETER    WALKING    ON    THE    SEA.  3G3 

r.ritl  Jlstrust  !  It  was  fliith  that  saiJ,  ** Master" — it  was 
<iistnist  that  added,  "  If  it  be  tliou,"  It  was  faith  that 
f:aid,  **Bid  mc  come  unto  thee,"  (implying  that  the  word 
of  Christ  could  enable,  as  well  as  command,)  and  that, 
<.n  receiving  2>ermission,  durst  step  down  upon  that 
watery  pavement — it  was  distrust,  that,  upon  the  vehe- 
mence of  a  mighty  wind,  feared.  It  was  in  faith  that 
he  walked — it  was  in  distrust  that  he  began  to  sink — 
it  was  in  faith  that  he  cried,  "Lord,  save  me  !"  O  im- 
perfect condition  of  the  holiest  saint  on  earth,  wherein 
MO  gold  is  so  pure  as  not  to  be  alloyed  with  })ascT 
elements !  The  fulness  of  gi'ace  can  only  be  found  in 
the  fulmess  of  glory — our  very  virtues  here  below  are 
mingled  with  infirmity  and  corruption.  Hereafter  the 
children  of  G  od  shall  shine  as  the  Sun  in  the  kingdom  of 
their  Father,  when  they  shall  be  invested  with  the  bright 
beams  of  heavenly  radiance — on  earth  they  are  but  in 
their  dawn,  wh«re  light  is  necessarily  blended  with  dark- 
ness. Far  be  it  from  us  to  be  discouraged  by  a  sense  of 
our  infirmities.  He  who  alone  fashioned  the  heart  of 
man,  best  knoweth  whereof  we  are  made — he  rcmem- 
bereth  that  we  are  but  dust. 

I/et  others  then  cavil  at  thy  request,  O  blessed  apostle 
— let  others  descant  on  thy  weakness — I  admire  and 
venerate  thy  faith,  thy  fervor,  thine  intrepidity;  while  in 
no  faltering  accent  thou  didst  exclaim,  ^*  Bid  m^e  come 
viwio  thee  on  the  waters!"  Thou.mightst  have  suspected 
tliat  the  voice  of  tliy  Master  ^was  as  miitable  by  the  ima- 
gined spirit  as  his  person — thou  mightst  have  dreaded  the 
raging  tempest,  the  threatening  billows,  the  yielding 
nature  of  that  tiH3aclw3rous  element — ^but  thy  desire  to 
iipproach  thy  Savior  leads  thee  to  banish  every  thought 
(;f  fear.  ''O  my  Lord  and  INIaster — all  thiags  are  pessi- 
ble  to  thee — thou  canst  command  both  the  wav<^s  and 
me  thy  servant — thou  art  great  in  power,  and  kno^^•est 
ihem  who  tiust  in  thee — thou  hast  thy  way  in  the  whirl- 


366  hall's  scripture  history. 

wind,  and  thy  path  in  the  storm.  All  things  obey  thee. 
Bid  me  come  unto  thee  upon  the  waters.'' 

The  actions  of  the  zealous  disciple  second  his  wordsi. 
No  sooner  hath  our  Savior  expressed  his  assent  to  the 
courageous  request,  than  he  sets  his  foot  on  the  unquiet 
sea,  disregarding  all  difficulties,  contemning  all  dangers. 
We  are  wont  to  admire  the  daring  spirit  of  that  man 
who  first  committed  himself  to  the  sea  in  a  frail  bark, 
guarded  as  he  was  by  all  possible  means  of  safety.  How 
much  more  signal  is  the  adventurous  braveiy  of  this 
servant  of  Christ !  Well  did  Peter  know,  that  he  who 
had  called  could  uphold  him.  He  therefore  sues  to  be 
bidden  and  trusts  to  be  supported.  True  faith  is  not  easily 
terrified  or  dismayed.  Its  virtue  is  represented,  not  as 
the  achievement  of  some  trivial  performance,  but  as  the 
removing  of  mountains.  Like  some  heroic  champion,  it 
desires  the  honors  of  danger,  and  petitions  for  the  first 
onset — while  the  unbeliever  is  freezing  in  torpid  fear,  and 
consults  nothing  but  his  own  ease,  or  his  own  security. 

How  easily  might  our  Savior  have  disappointed  the 
ardor  of  his  apostle,  and  denied  his  unprecedented  re- 
quest !  "  The  acts  of  my  omnipotence  are  not  design- 
ed as  examples  to  thy  weakness.  It  is  no  less  than  pre- 
sumption in  thee,  a  mortal,  to  seek  to  imitate  the  mira- 
culous works  of  the  Son  of  God.  Remain  in  thy  ship 
and  wonder — thinking  thyself  sufficiently  happy  that  thou 
hast  a  Master  to  whom  winds  and  waves  pay  homage 
and  do  obeisance."  Yet,  behold,  the  assent  of  our  Lord 
is  no  sooner  solicited  than  obtained.  The  suit  of  ambition 
was  suddenly  denied  to  the  wife  of  Zebedee.  The  suit 
of  revenge  was  not  more  successful  when  proffered  by 
her  children — but  the  prayer  of  faith,  though  its  object 
transcended  the  very  laws  of  nature,  met  with  no  denial 
from  the  Lord  of  mercy.  How  much  less,  O  Savior,  wilt 
thou  reject  thy  servants  who  ask  thee  for  that  grace  which 
they  continually  need  ?    Never  did  any  man  say,  "Bid  me 


PETER    WALKING    ON    THE    SEA.  367 

come  unto  thee  in  the  way  of  tliy  commandments,"  whom 
thou  didst  not  invite,  and  enable  to  come. 

True  faith  rests  not  in  mere  speculation,  hut  decides 
and  executes.  If  we  rest  contented  with  a  vain  and  fruit- 
less desire  without  actually  endeavoring  to  present  our- 
.selves  before  God,  we  feel  only  the  faint  and  delusive 
impulses  of  self-deceit.  Blessed  Savior,  thou  hast  com- 
manded us,  in  spite  of  all  perils,  all  obstacles  whatever,  to 
seek  thy  face.  Thy  face,  Lord,  will  we  seek.  The  waves 
of  this  troublesome  world  shall  not  affright  us — the  winds 
and  storms  of  temptation  shall  not  withhold  us — no  way 
can  be  otherwise  than  safe  while  thou  art  the  end. 

The  apostle,  like  his  divine  Master,  walks  upon  the 
waves.  Sujoported  by  the  power  of  Christ,  and  by  his 
ovm  faith,  he  is  safe  in  the  midst  of  danger.  Had  it  not 
been  for  that  power,  that  faith  would  have  proved  vain. 
Had  it  not  been  for  that  faith,  that  power  would  never 
liave  been  exerted.  While  we  are  here  in  this  world, 
we  walk  upon  the  waters.  Still  the  means  of  our  pre- 
Fei*vation  are  the  same.  Without  the  assistance  of  Christ 
v/e  perish;  the  waters  cover  us,  and  the  stream  goeth 
over  our  soul — without  the  operation  of  a  true  and  lively 
faith,  we  imitate  not  the  courage  but  the  weakness  of  the 
apostle — who,  when  he  saw  the  wind  boisterous,  was 
afraid — and  beginning  to  sink,  he  cried,  saying,  *' Lord, 
save  me  !" 

When  he  sought  permission  to  walk  towards  Chiist 
OH  that  liquid  pavement,  he  thought  of  the  waters,  but 
adverted  not  to  the  winds  which  raged  on  those  waters — 
nr  if  he  had  prepared  his  mind  for  some  difficulties,  the 
icmpest  he  had  to  e!2counter  was  beyond  the  limit  of  his 
expectation.  Let  o<ur  haste  to  approach  thee,  blessed 
Lord,  be  zealous,  but  not  improvident.  Before  we  quit 
the  ship,  let  us  foresee  the  storm  :  if  we  are  prepared 
for  the  worst,  we  shall  be  canied  safely  over  those  bil- 
lows which  overwhelm  the  negligent. 


368  hall's    SCKli'TURE    HISTORY. 

As  soon  as  Peter  began  to  fea)-,  he  began  to  sink. 
While  he  believed,  the  sea  was  brass — when  he  began 
to  distrust,  those  waves  were  water.  He  cannot  sink 
while  he  relies  on  the  power  of  his  Master — he  cannot 
hut  sink,  when  once  he  doubts  it.  Our  faith  gives  us  not 
only  courage  but  success — infidelity  makes  us  liable  to 
every  danger,  every  mischief 

It  was  the  improvidence  of  Peter  not  to  foresee — it 
was  his  weakness  to  fear.  It  was  the  effect  of  his  fear 
to  sink — when  lo,  in  the  very  moment  of  extreme  peril, 
his  faith  revives,  breaks  through  his  unbelief,  and  as  he 
is  sinking,  bids  him  exclaim,  "  Lord,  save  me  !"  His 
heart  implores  deliverance  ere  the  waters  flow  over  his 
head — he  is  aware  who  could  uphold  him  from  sinking, 
and  deliver  him,  though  sunk — and  therefore  out  of  the 
deep  he  called  unto  thee,  O  Lord — and  thou  didst  hear 
his  voice. 

It  was  Christ,  the  Lord,  whom  Peter  had  offended  by 
distrusting.  It  is  Christ,  the  Lord,  to  whom  he  sues  for 
deliverance.  His  weakness  doth  not  discourage  him 
from  his  refuge.  To  whom  should  we  seek  for  succor, 
but  to  thee,  O  God,  who  for  our  sins  art  justly  displeas- 
ed? Against  thee  only  have  we  sinned — in  thee  only 
is  our  help.  In  vain  shall  all  the  powers  of  heaven  and 
earth  conspire  to  relieve  us,  if  thou  withhold  thine  aid. 
Lord,  when  we  have  offended  against  thy  justice  by 
mortal  infirmity,  teach  us  to  have  recourse  to  thy  mercy 
by  faith  and  true  repentance  ! 

That  mercy  is  no  sooner  sought  after  than  found. 
"  Immediately  Jesus  put  forth  his  hand  and  caught  him." 
Even  though  he  had  ceased  to  trust  in  that  power  which 
alone  could  2Dresei*\'e  him — though  he  had  \Nronged  the 
care  of  his  blessed  Master  by  weak  and  ungi'ounded  dif- 
fidence, he  is  not  abandoned  to  destruction.  Indignation 
is  disarmed  by  pity.  In  a  moment  that  power  which 
created  the  sea  and  the  dry  land  is  stretched  out  for  his 


jAmus.  369 

rtViief.  When  did  tlio  voice  of  a  believer  solicit  tlic 
lUGTcy  of  God,  and  solicit  in  vain?  Thou,  Lord,  art 
good  and  ready  to  forgivo,  sxid  plenteous  in  mercy  to  all 
tliat  call  upon  thee — thou  art  great,  and  doest  wondrous 
tilings — the  right  hand  of  the  Lord  bringeth  mighty 
things  to  pass. 

Jesus,  while  he  saves  liis  trembling  apostle  from  de- 
struction, meets  him  with  the  voice  of  just  reproof.  *'  O 
thou  of  little  faith,  whei'efore  dids't  thou  doubt  ]"  Well 
as  our  Savior  apj) roved  the  zeal  and  sincerity  of  his  ser- 
vant, he  would  not  v/ink  at  his  infirmities.  Where  there 
was  such  gi-ound  for  coniidence,  the  doubts  of  infidelity 
were  worthy  of  censure  and  reprehension  ;  but  the  sin 
of  Peter  was  forgiven,  for  he  loved  much.  It  is  the  fruit 
of  thy  favor  and  mercy,  O  Lord,  that  w'e  escape  judg- 
raent — we  are  not  therefore  to  escape  rebuke.  Had  not 
Peter  found  grace  in  thy  sight,  he  might  have  been  suffer- 
ed to  sink  in  silence — now  he  is  saved,  with  rejoroof. 
There  may  be  more  compassion  in  frowns  than  in  smiles. 
Correct  us,  O  Savior,  in  judgment,  not  in  thine  anger, 
lost  thou  bring  us  to  nothing.  O  let  the  righteous  God 
fimite  us,  v/hen  we  offend,  with  his  gracious  admonition — 
it  shall  be  an  excellent  oil,  which  shall  not  break  the 
iiCad — for  whom  the  Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth,  even 
iis  a  father  his  son  in  whom  he  delighteth. 


76,— JAIRUS. 

Already  had  our  blessed  Savior  demonstrated  to  man- 
kind that  he  was  the  Lord  of  life  and  death.  Already 
had  he  commanded  the  return  of  a  departed  spirit,  and 
brought  it  from  the  unseen  world,  that  it  might  be  rein- 
ttated  in  its  earthly  mansion.  No  wonder  that  the  fame 
16* 


370  hall's  scripture  history. 

of  such  an  astonishing  act  diffused  itself  far  and  wide 
throughout  the  region  of  Judea.  No  wonder  that  all 
who  stood  in  need  of  assistance  had  recourse  to  the  Lord 
of  mercy  and  power.  The  people  of  God  resorted  in 
countless  multitudes  to  mount  Carmel  to  behold  the  mi- 
racles of  Elijah.     Lo,  a  greater  than  Elijah  is  here. 

Even  among  the  rulers  of  the  synagogue  prejudice 
could  not  prevail  over  natural  affection.  When  Jairus 
beheld  his  dear,  his  only  child  in  the  agonies  of  death, 
he  paid  no  attention  to  those  hard  sayings  which  ungod- 
ly sinners  spake  against  the  Savior  of  the  world.  The 
question  of  triumphant  bigotry,  "  Have  any  of  the  rulers 
or  Pharisees  believed  ]"  was  not  unanswerable.  Yes, 
they  have  believed.  With  the  heart  they  have  believed 
unto  righteousness,  and  with  the  mouth  they  have  con- 
fessed unto  salvation.  While  Jesus  spake  unto  the  peo- 
ple, there  came  a  Ruler  and  worshipped  him,  saying,  "  My 
little  daughter  lieth  at  the  point  of  death — but  come  and 
lay  thy  hands  upon  her,  and  she  shall  live."  O  Jaiinis, 
great  is  thy  faith,  founded  on  an  immoveable  Rock.  The 
winds  and  storms  of  affliction,  the  poisonous  arrows  of 
death  itself  are  directed  against  it  in  vain.  Thy  God, 
whom  thou  servest  continually,  he  shall  deliver  thee. 

Behold  and  see  how  gracious  the  Lord  is — blessed  is 
the  man  which  putteth  his  trust  in  him.  No  sooner  hatli 
the  tender  father  offered  up  his  j3etition,  than  he  receives 
an  answer  of  peace.  "  Fear  not — believe  only,  and  she 
shall  be  made  whole."  Instantly  our  Savior  directs  his 
footsteps  to  the  house  of  his  suppliant — Jairus  accom- 
panies him,  full  of  anxious  expectation,  not  yet  aware 
that  the  object  of  his  parental  fondness  was  even  now  a 
lifeless  corpse.  These  dreadful  tidings  meet  him  on  his 
way,  while  the  multitude,  thronging  round  our  blessed 
Lord,  detain  him  from  a  speedy  arrival. 

That  not  a  moment  might  be  unemployed  in  acts  of 
mercy,  our  Savior  works  a  miracle  of  healing  in  his  very 


JAIRUS.  371 

progress.  Even  by  virtue  of  liis  garment  he  delivers  a 
miserable  sufferer  from  the  jaws  of  death.  How  shall 
we  imitate  thee,  gracious  Lord,  if  we  suffer  our  hands  to 
relax  from  works  of  benevolence  1  Our  life  passes  away 
with  our  time — we  lose  that  hour  which  we  improve  not. 

While  this  recent  display  of  Divine  omnipotence  ele- 
vates the  heart  of  Jairus,  and  awakens  such  sentiments 
in  his  mind  that  against  hope  he  believeth  in  hope,  the 
importunity  of  the  multitude  on  the  other  hand  awakens 
the  most  painful  emotions.  He  was  imploring  the  mercy 
of  Christ  for  his  daughter — the  assembled  people  im- 
pede the  Lord  of  life  from  blessing  his  roof  with  his  j^re- 
sence.  Every  man  is  most  sensible  of  his  own  necessity 
— we  cannot  be  too  emulous  of  the  Divine  favor,  of  the 
Divine  benediction. 

The  only  child  of  this  ruler  lay  dying  when  he  came  to 
solicit  the  help  of  Christ,  and  was  dead  while  he  solicited 
it.  There  was  hoj^e  in  her  sickness — in  its  progress  there 
was  fear — in  its  event  he  is  told  to  despair  of  comfort. 
"  Thy  daughter  is  dead — trouble  not  the  Master."  Had 
Jairus  betaken  himself  for  aid  to  a  merely  finite  being, 
the  word  had  been  just.  But  since  an  omnipotent  agent 
is  concerned,  death  itself  is  no  impediment  to  his  power. 
Thy  daughter  is  dead,  O  faithful  and  devout  parent,  but 
cannot  he,  in  whose  hands  are  the  issues  of  life  and  of 
death,  bring  her  back  again  ]  Cannot  thy  Lord  and  Sa- 
vior be  gracious  to  thee,  that  thy  child  may  revive  1- 

The  messenger  addressed  himself  to  the  ear  of  an  af- 
flicted father.  Jairus  receives  the  sad  confirmation  of  his 
fears,  and  is  now  about  to  resign  himself  to  the  bitter- 
ness of  sorrow.  But  that  Divine  Benefactor  of  mankind, 
whose  office  it  was  to  comfort  the  miserable,  speaks  peace 
to  the  wretched  parent,  and  awakens  his  faith  and  his 
hope.  "  Be  not  afraid — only  believe."  Alas,  who,  under 
such  a  fatal  calamity,  could  be  insensible  to  sorrow  ]  Who 
could  do  otherwise  than  grieve  for  the  loss  of  an  only 


372  HALL  S  SCRIPTURE  HISTORY. 

child  ?  Who  could  do  otherwise  than  imagine,  that 
death,  having  once  seized  on  the  innocent  victim,  would 
not  abandon  its  prey  ] 

But  perfect  faith,  as  well  as  perfect  love,  casteth  out 
fear.  Unbelief  is  nearly  allied  to  that  timid,  suspicious 
temper,  which  will  take  nothing  upon  trust,  even  where 
God  himself  is  Agent.  If  our  Lord  had  commanded  Jai- 
rus  what  was  easy  to  perform,  where  had  been  the  praise 
of  his  obedience  1  While  the  child  was  yet  alive,  to  believe 
that  she  might  recover  was  no  difficult  operation  of  the 
mind — but  to  believe  that  the  dead  should  live  again  was 
an  illustrious  proof  of  faith  and  piety — faith,  stronger 
than  death  itself,  and  able  to  burst  those  iron  bonds  like 
threads  of  tow.  How  much  natural  impossibility  is  there 
in  the  return  of  our  bodies  from  the  dust  of  the  earth,  in- 
to which,  through  many  degrees  of  dissolution,  they  shall 
at  last  be  mouldered  ]  Yet  be  not  afraid,  O  my  soul — 
believe  only  ;   and  in  thy  flesh  thou  shall  see  God. 

The  work  might  have  been  as  easily  done  by  a  distant 
command — the  power  of  Christ  was  there,  while  himself 
was  absent — but  he  will  go  personally  to  the  place,  that 
he  might  be  confessed  the  Author  of  so  great  a  miracle. 
Blessed  Savior,  it  was  thy  delight  to  repair  to  the  house 
of  mourning — thou  hadst  no  gi-eater  joy,  when  thou  wert 
a  partaker  of  our  human  nature,  than  to  pour  the  full 
measure  of  comfort  into  the  heart  of  the  afflicted. 

What  a  confusion  is  there  in  worldly  sorrow  !  How  is 
the  awful  silence  of  that  lifeless  body  contrasted  by  the 
shrieks  of  the  wretched  mother,  the  loud  lamentations  of 
the  attendants,  the  cries  of  sympathizing  friends,  the  dis- 
cordant minstrelsy  hymning  its  funeral  dirge  !  Soon  docs 
the  Redeemer  banish  these  clamorous  mourners.  Not 
that  he  wished  to  check  those  tears,  which  in  circum- 
stances of  such  a  nature  are  natural,  are  unavoidable — 
not  that,  with  a  stem  austerity,  he  was  averse  to  that 
Bublime  and  heaven-taught  art,  which  enhances  joy,  and 


jAiRUs.  373 

charms  the  troubled  soul* — but  because  he  knew  these 
tloleful  ceremonies  to  be  premature  and  unseasonable. 
"  Give  place — the  maid  is  not  dead,  but  sleepeth."  The 
grave  itself  is  but  a  place  of  rest,  whence  the  christian 
shall  be  recalled  by  the  trumpet  of  the  Archangel — but 
the  daughter  of  Jairus,  so  soon  to  be  awakened,  was  but 
in  a  kind  of  temporary  re230se.  Death  and  sleep  are 
jilike  to  thee,  O  Lord — thy  voice  can  recall  us  from  the 
sleep  of  death — without  thee  we  are  not  able  to  arise 
from  our  ordinary  slumber. 

Before,  the  people,  and  the  domestics  of  Jairus,  held 
Jesus  for  a  prophet — now  they  account  him  an  idle 
visionary.  They  who  came  professedly  to  mourn,  cannot 
refrain  from  contemptuous  laughter — "  Who  ever  died, 
if  this  be  sleep  1  Have  we  officiated  at  so  many  funerals, 
have  we  seen  and  wej)t  over  so  many  corpses,  and  cannot 
v/e  distinguish  between  sleep  and  death  1  The  eyes  are 
fixed — the  breath  is  gone — the  limbs  are  cold  and  lifeless 
— Why  does  he  mock  that  sorrow  which  it  is  beyond  his 
power  to  remove  ?"  How  easily  may  we  be  led  astray 
by  prejudice  and  self-conceit,  in  things  pertaining  to 
Heaven  !  The  proud  philosopher,  the  haughty  moralist, 
are  ready  to  insult  and  blaspheme  God  when  he  speaks 
of  things  beyond  their  compass — but  God  is  not  mocked 
by  the  unbelief  of  his  creatures.  He  that  dwelleth  in 
heaven  shall  laugh  them  to  scorn — the  Lord  shall  have 
them  in  derision.  These  vain  and  foolish  Jews,  in  spite 
of  foiTner  convictions,  persist  in  eiTor  and  incredulity ; 
and  deem  the  words  of  eternal  wisdom  and  mercy  no 
better  than  foolishness. 

The  sorrowing  parents  share  not  in  these  senseless 
cavils.  They  look  towards  the  Lord  of  life  with  eyes 
which  give  utterance  to  all  the  emotions  of  their  hearts 


*  "  And  when  they  had  sung  an  Hymn  they  went  out  into  the  Mount 
of  Olive?."    Matthew,  2G  :  30.    Mark,  14  :  26. 


371  hall's  scripture  history. 

— -and  await  the  issue  in  trembling  expectation.  Three 
chosen  disciples  attend  their  Master  into  the  chamber  of 
death.  O  Savior,  when  is  thy  goodness  discouraged  by 
the  petulance  of  scornful  infidelity  1  In  spite  of  turbulent 
<)pposition,  or  wayward  folly,  thy  Father  worketh  hither- 
tD,  and  thou  workest.  It  is  enough  that  thy  marvellous 
acts  shall  honor  thee,  and  convict  thy  gainsayers.  "  He 
took  her  by  the  hand,  and  called,  saying,  'Maidy  ar'ise^ 
and  she  arose  straightway." 

How  could  that  voice  be  other  than  effectual  ?  He 
who  made  that  hand,  now  touched  it.  He  who  hereaf- 
ter shall  say  ''Arise,  ye  dead,"  now  said,  "  Maid,  arise." 
The  soul  is  in  the  powder  of  the  God  who  gave  it.  He 
saith  to  it,  "  Go,"  and  it  goeth — "Come,"  and  it  cometh. 
The  late  dissolved  spirit  knows  its  place,  knows  its  ofhce, 
and  at  the  divine  injunction  returns  to  that  abode,  which, 
by  the  same  injunction,  it  had  so  lately  quitted.  The 
astonished  and  enraptured  parents  behold  the  darling  of 
their  hearts  restored  not  merely  to  life,  but  to  health, 
and  vigor,  and  activity.  Omnipotence  goes  not  the  pace 
of  nature — all  the  immediate  works  of  G  od  are,  like  him- 
self, perfect.  "  She  arose  and  walked — and  he  com.- 
manded  to  give  her  meat." 

O  Savior,  when  thou  dost  enjoin  our  souls  to  arise 
from  the  death  of  sin,  they  cannot  but  obey  thee — when 
thou  shalt  enjoin  our  bodies  to  arise  fi'om  our  grave, 
they  shall  revive  at  thy  voice — in  vain  shall  our  sin  or 
the  grave  withhold  us  from  thee.  "For  I  am  persuaded, 
that  neither  death  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor  principalities, 
nor  powers,  nor  things  present,  nor  things  to  come,  nor 
height,  nor  de])th,  nor  any  other  creature,  shall  be  able 
to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ 
Jesus  our  Lord." 


THE    SAMARITAN    VILLAGE.  375 


77.— THE    SAMARITAN    VILLAGE. 

The  time  now  approached  "  when  Jesus  should  be 
received  up" — but  he  would  take  death  in  his  way.  He 
would  be  lifted  up  on  his  cross  ere  he  ascended  to 
heaven.  Yet  the  contest  is  not  mentioned  by  the  divine 
historian — we  hear  only  of  the  victory.  Blessed  Lord, 
the  members  of  thy  mystical  body  must  also  die,  that 
they  may  be  glorified — like  thee,  they  must  look  beyond 
the  grave  to  that  transcendent  joy  which  awaits  them — 
like  thee,  they  must  rise  superior  to  that  hour  of  trial, 
which  will  terminate  in  a  blissful  immortality. 

Armed  with  divine  resolution,  our  Savior,  though 
aware  of  all  the  malice  of  his  enemies,  undauntedly  "  set 
his  face  to  go  to  Jerusalem  :"  to  the  abode  of  his  most 
inveterate  opponents,  the  amphitheatre  of  his  conflicts, 
the  place  where  he  was  appointed  to  die.  In  his  pro- 
gress from  Galilee  he  passes  through  the  region  of 
Samaria,  attended  by  the  chosen  band  of  his  disciples. 

The  animosity  between  the  Jews  and  Samaritans  had 
ever  been  productive  of  the  most  unhappy  consequences 
to  the  contending  parties.  Fatally  mistaking  the  spirit 
of  religion,  they  polluted  those  streams  of  truth  which 
should  ever  flow  in  the  utmost  purity,  by  controversy 
and  unhallowed  strife.  No  enmity  is  so  desperate  as  that 
which  arises  from  theological  disputes.  The  champions 
in  this  unnatural  contest  dare  to  approach  the  Prince  of 
Peace  with  confused  noise,  with  wrath,  and  hatred,  and 
contention — being  more  persecuting,  more  intolerant,  as 
they  are  more  deeply  entangled  in  the  mazes  of  error. 
Wilt  thou  not  visit  for  these  things,  O  God  of  truth  1 
Shall  not  thy  soul  be  avenged  on  such  profanations 
as  these  1 

Our  Savior  demanded  nothing  at  the  hands  of  these 
bigoted  Samaritans,  but  the  accustomed  rites  of  hospi- 


076  KALL  S    SCRIPTURE    HISTORY. 

taiity  fur  himself  and  his  companions — a  Httlc  food — a 
place  where  he  might  lay  liishcad.  Even  this  is  refused, 
"because  his  face  was  as  though  he  would  go  up  to 
Jerusalem."  The  Lord  of  nature  is  denied  an  insignifi- 
cant portion  of  his  gifts — he  v/ho  could  have  commanded 
iingels,  sues  to  Samaritans — he  whose  unutterable  ma- 
jesty fills  the  heaven  and  earth,  asks  a  few  hours'  shelter 
ill  an  obscure  village,  and  asks  it  in  vain.  The  ardor  of 
his  indignant  disciples,  James  and  John,  cannot  brook 
this  act  of  unkindness.  With  a  zeal  yet  more  i-eprehen- 
sible  than  the  offence  which  called  it  forth,  these  "  sons 
of  thunder  "  would  at  once  have  recourse  to  the  most 
horrible  of  all  vengeance — "  Lord,  wilt  thou  that  we 
command  fire  to  come  down  from  heaven  and  consume 
them,  as  Elias  »did  ?"  Who  can  but  shudder  at  this 
presumption,  at  this  vindictive  haste  in  those  whom  God 
had  separated  from  a  sinful  world!  This  awful  instru- 
ment of  divine  indignation  had  been  very  rarely  exerted 
ajrainst  mankind.  The  oi-acles  of  truth  record  no  other 
instances  of  it  than  the  tremendous  doom  of  Sodom  and 
its  neighbor-cities — the  punishment  of  the  rebcUicnis  Is- 
raelites— the  trial  of  that  gi'eat  pattern  of  all  patience — 
and  the  instance  which  the  sons  of  Zebedee  now  would 
urge  as  a  precedent.  O  God,  how  unfrequent  are  the 
demonstrations  of  thy  wrath  in  comparison  with  the 
multitude  of  thy  tender  mercies  ! 

Though  the  anger  of  the  sons  of  Zebedee  could  not 
but  be  excited  to  see  the  great  prophet  and  Savior  of  the 
world  rejected,  and  treated  with  unkindness,  we  cannot 
palliate  their  rash  ciiielty,  their  unjust  and  inordinate 
lage.  Nothing  is  so  evil  as  the  corruption  of  what  is 
good — a  right  zeal  is  not  more  laudable  than  its  excess 
is  hateful  and  dangerous.  Without  the  use  of  fire  miui 
would  inevitably  perish  under  the  severity  of  the  win- 
ter's cold — but  what  can  be  more  dreadful  than  the  fury 
of  this   dcvourincr  clement  when   it  invades  our  dwell- 


THE    SAMARITAN    VILLAGE.  377 

iDgs,  or  consigns  our  possessions  to  sudden  desolation  1 
Thus  sometimes  zeal  becomes  Indiscretion — some- 
times frenzy — sometimes  even  murder.  **  They  that  kill 
you,  shall  think  they  do  God  service."  Blessed  Is  that 
zeal  which  Is  well  gi'ounded  and  well  governed — ground- 
ed on  the  word  of  truth,  not  on  unstable  fancies — gov- 
erned, not  by  Intemperate  zeal,  but  by  wisdom  and 
charity :  wisdom,  to  avoid  rashness  ;  charity,  to  avoid  all 
just  offence. 

O  pure  and  heavenly  zeal,  the  genial  warmth  and 
vital  temper  of  piety,  whither  hast  thou  withdrawn  thy- 
self from  the  hearts  of  mankind  ]  To  what  can  we 
attribute  thy  departure  but  to  the  dreadful  ravages  of 
sin  ]  How  many  are  there  who  think  that  wisdom  con- 
sists only  In  cold  Indlfierence — who  freeze  In  miserable 
apathy,  when  they  should  glow  with  fervent  devotion  ! 
How  quick  and  a|)prehenslve  are  we  In  cases  where  our 
own  honor  Is  concerned,  how  Insensible  of  the  Indignities 
offered  to  our  Savior  ! 

The  disciples,  erring  In  a  contrary  extreme,  want  not 
a  pretext  for  their  vehement  request.  "■  Ellas  did  so. 
Why  should  not  we  1  He  was  a  holy  prophet — the 
occasion  which  led  him  to  Inflict  such  vengeance  was  not 
altogether  dissimilar — yet  there  the  Indignity  was  offered 
to  the  servant,  here  to  the  Master — there,  to  a  man  ; 
here  to  the  Son  of  God.  Wilt  thou  not  that  we  command 
fire  from  heaven,  as  Ellas  did  ?"  There  Is  nothing  more 
perilous  than  to  consider  all  the  acts  of  godly  men  as 
examples.  Not  only  because  they  had  the  weaknesses 
and  Infirmities  Inseparable  from  nature,  but  because  In 
some  extraordinary  circumstances  the  commission  which 
they  had  received  from  above  gave  them  that  peculiar 
warrant,  which  If  we  expect,  we  shall  expect  in  vain. 
We  cannot  therefore  be  too  cautious  in  our  Imitation 
of  the  best  examples,  save  of  thine  only,  O  blessed  and 
holy  Jesus — lest  we  be  drawn  suddenly  into  the  com- 


378  hall's  scripture  history. 

mission  of  sin,    and    our    well-meant    actions   prove   the 
destruction  of  our  peace. 

The  Son  of  God  forbears  not  to  chide  where  he  best 
loves — he  blames  not  our  ardor,  but  will  moderate  its  ex- 
cesses. "  Ye  know  not  what  spirit  ye  are  of."  The  fault  of 
uncharitableness  cannot  be  atoned  for  by  zeal — the  God 
whom  we  serve  will  not  have  the  best  cause  supported 
by  the  violation  of  our  duty.  Can  his  good  Spirit  excite 
us  to  revenge,  to  animosity,  to  thirst  of  blood  ?  That 
Spirit,  when  he  assumed  a  visible  form,  came  not  as  a 
ravening  eagle,  but  in  a  bodily  shape  as  a  dove.  Not  in 
the  whirlwind,  not  in  the  fire,  but  in  the  **  still  small 
voice  "  did  God  manifest  himself  to  his  prophet.  O  Sa- 
vior, what  need  we  any  other  precedent  than  thine,  by 
whose  name  we  are  called  ]  Thou  camest  to  thine  own 
— thine  own  received  thee  not.  Didst  thou  call  for  fire 
to  come  down  from  heaven  and  consume  them  ?  Didst 
thou  not  rather  pray  and  weej),  and  bleed  for  their 
sakes  ?  Better  were  it  for  us,  O  Lord,  to  have  no  spirit, 
than  to  have  any  other  than  that  which  we  derive  fi-om 
thee.  Thou  hast  left  us  an  example,  that  we  should  fol- 
low thy  steps. 

"  The  Son  of  man  came  not  to  destroy  men's  lives, 
but  to  save  them."  There,  there  is  the  tiiie  and  genuine 
spirit  of  Christianity.  Then  are  our  intentions  praise- 
worthy, and  our  actions  laudable,  when  they  accord 
with  this  pattern  of  all  giace  and  excellence.  Blessed 
Savior,  when  we  contemplate  thy  dealings  with  mankind, 
v,re  find  many  lives  preserved  by  thee  from  })crishing — 
some  that  had  actually  perished,  recalled  by  thy  voice  : 
never  any  one  destroyed  at  thy  command.  Thy  power 
was  able  to  control  all  nature.  The  unfruitful  fig-tree  in- 
deed withered  away  at  the  blasting  of  the  breath  of  thy 
displeasure — but  to  man,  how  favorable  wast  thou,  how 
indulgent  ?  So  rejected  as  thou  wert,  so  reviled,  so  per- 
beeuted,  so  laid  wait  for,  betrayed,  apprehended,  airaign- 


THE    TEN    LEPERS.  379 

eJ,  condemned,  crucified,  whom  didst  thou  strike  dead 
for  these  heinous  indignities  ?  When  the  zeal  of  thy 
faithful  apostle  smote  oif  the  ear  of  one  of  thine  enemies 
who  came  upon  thee  to  take  away  thy  life,  instantly  thou 
didst  touch  his  ear  and  heal  him.  When,  after  thy  last 
glorious  victory,  thou  didst  rejoin  thy  disciples  who  had 
forsaken  thee  in  the  conflict,  thou  didst  hail  them  by  the 
endearing  name  of  brethren.  When  bigotry  and  preju- 
dice refused  thee  the  common  offices  of  hospitality,  thou 
didst  depart  in  peace  and  meekness  to  another  village. 
Surely  the  wrath  of  man  worketh  not  the  righteousness 
of  God.  O  thou  preserver  of  men,  how  can  we  sufficient- 
ly love  and  adore  thy  mercy  !  Teach  us  to  walk  in  thy 
footsteps,  blessed  Lord.  Send  thine  Holy  Ghost,  and 
pour  into  our  hearts  that  most  excellent  gift  of  charity. 
Let  all  bitterness,  and  wrath,  and  anger,  and  clamor,  and 
evil  speaking  be  put  away  from  us,  with  all  malice — and 
let  us  be  kind  one  to  another,  tender-hearted,  forgiving 
one  another,  even  as  God  for  Christ's  sake  hath  forgiven 
us.    Amen. 


78.— THE    TEN    LEPERS. 

It  is  the  prerogative  of  misery  to  unite  the  most  es- 
tranged hearts  in  one  common  band  of  friendship  and  so- 
ciety. Even  the  fixed  and  hereditary  rancor  between 
Jews  and  Samaritans  gave  way  when  this  more  power- 
ful interest  prevailed.  At  the  entrance  of  a  certain  vil- 
lage Jesus  was  addressed  by  ten  men  that  were  lepers — 
and  one  of  them  was  a  Samaritan. 

Excluded  from  all  intercourse  with  the  rest  of  man- 
kind, these  wanderers  sought  relief  in  the  company  of 
each    other.     Community  of  suffering   has  made    them 


3S0  hall's  scripture  history. 

friends,  whom  religion  itself  has  disjoined.  The  unhap- 
py suppliants,  with  one  consent,  direct  their  steps  to- 
wards our  Savior — not  casually,  but  on  due  deliberation  : 
ihey  had  long  and  anxiously  waited  for  this  propitious 
moment,  when  the  appioach  of  Jesus  led  them  to  hope 
for  deliverance  from  so  loathsome  and  miserable  a  dis- 
ease. The  mighty  Naaman,  valiant  and  successful  in  war, 
the  friend  and  favorite  of  his  master,  scrupled  not, 
under  the  same  circumstances  of  distress,  to  take  his 
journey  from  Syria  to  the  banks  of  Jordan  for  his  cure. 
W<5  ai'e  all  sensible  enough  of  our  bodily  infimiities.  O 
that  we  could  be  equally  weary  of  those  diseases  whicli 
affect  our  souls  and  endanger  our  eternal  happiness  ! 
Surely  our  spiritual  maladies  are  no  less  than  mortal,  if 
they  be  not  healed.  O  Lord,  from  thy  power  and  thy 
mercy  alone  can  vv'e  expect  a  remedy.  Give  us  gi'ace  to 
teek  thee,  give  us  patience  to  wait  for  thee — so  wilt  thou 
f^urely  find  us,  to  our  comfort  and  deliverance.  Retun?, 
O  God  of  hosts — show  the  light  of  thy  countenance  upon 
us — and  we  shall  be  made  whole. 

Tlie  lepers,  standing  afar  off,  as  the  law  of  Moses  en- 
joined, lift  up  their  voices  with  one  accord,  and  address 
the  Lord  of  life  with  all  the  energy  of  impassioned  sor- 
row.   "Jesus — Master — have  mercy  on  us!" 

Dis'tant  with  respect  to  place,  they  are  not  distant 
with  respect  to  the  acceptance  of  their  prayer.  The 
Lord  is  nigh  unto  all  such  as  call  upon  him,  to  all  such 
as  call  upon  him  in  truth.  O  Savior,  while  we  are  far  off 
from  thee,  thou  art  near  to  us — never  do  we  make  such 
successful  application  to  thee,  as  when  we  stand  aloof  in 
holy  diffidence.  The  consideration  of  thy  mercy  leads  us 
to  come  boldly  to  the  throne  of  thy  grace — but  oh,  how 
great  is  the  majesty  t)f  that  throne !  how  great  the  un^vor- 
thiness  which  we  bring  with  us  into  that  awful  presence! 

The  sorrow  of  these  sufferers,  no  less  than  their  dis- 
tance, bade  them  cry  aloud  for  help.    Affliction  "  opens 


THE    TEN    LEPERS.  381 

the  moutli  of  the  dumb,  and  makes  the  tongues  of  thent 
that  camiot  speak,  eloquent."  Jew  and  Samaritan  unite? 
in  one  common  supplication.  If  \vc  Avould  obtain  the 
favor  of  heaven,  we  must  not  content  ourselves  with 
private  and  solitary  devotion — we  must  join  our  forces 
together,  and  put  forth  all  their  strength.  Two  are  bet- 
ter than  one,  because  they  have  a  good  reward  for  their 
labor.  No  fervent  prayer  is  unheard,  or  unanswered  ; 
but  vvhen  many  faithful  hearts  unite  in  their  jietition, 
they  have  the  promise  of  peculiar  favor  from  above. 
IIow  can  we  fail  of  a  blessing,  (if  we  are  not  wanting  to 
ourselves,  and  to  God.)  when  the  word  of  truth  has  de- 
clared, "All  things  whatsoever  ye  ask  in  prayer,  believ- 
ing, ye  shall  receive  V 

O  wonderful  power  of  the  Son  of  God  !  It  was  not 
necessary  that  the  compassionate  hand  of  Jesus  should 
reach  the  objects  of  his  pity.  While  yet  they  stood  afar 
off,  conscious  of  their  infirmity,  and  not  daring  to  ap- 
proach, a  glance  of  his  eye,  a  word  from  his  sacred  lips 
accomplishes  the  work  of  mercy — *'  Go,  show  yourselves 
to  the  priests" — with  whom,  according  to  the  institu- 
tions of  Moses,  it  rested  to  ascertain  the  reality  of  a  le- 
per's cure.  They  obeyed — "  and  it  came  to  pass,  that,  as 
they  went,  they  were  cleansed."  Verily  thou  art  the  God 
that  doeth  wonders.  The  voice  of  the  Lord  is  mighty 
in  operation — the  voice  of  the  Lord  is  a  glorious  voice. 

Not  only  evil  must  be  avoided,  but  offence,  Christ 
himself,  who  was  above  the  law,  would  not  transgress  it. 
Of  old  he  had  ordained  (through  the  ministry  of  the  pa- 
triarch) that  all  persons  restored  to  health  after  the 
plague  of  the  leprosy  should  present  themselves  before 
God  and  his  consecrated  sei^^^ant,  with  a  sacrifice  of 
grateful  love.  The  ordinances  delivered  from  Sinai  now 
approached  to  their  consummation — but  the  veil  as  yet. 
was  not  taken  away — he  will  not  anticipate  the  appointed 
time,  when  the  law  should  be  succeeded  by  the  Gospel, 


382  hall's  scripture  history. 

Alas,  who  were  they,  blessed  Lord,  to  whom  thou 
didst  enjoin  this  tribute  of  respect  and  obsers'ance  to  be 
paid  ?  When  we  look  to  the  priests  of  the  Jews,  we 
see  pride,  corruption,  hypocrisy,  professed  hostility  to 
thyself — yet  all  this  will  not  induce  thee  to  omit  the  at- 
tention due  to  their  office.  Had  this  duty  been  neglect- 
ed, what  clamors  would  have  been  raised  by  the  adver- 
sary !  What  impious  murmurs  against  the  Lord  of  life  ! 
They  who  scrutinized  all  his  actions  with  such  jealous 
malignity,  who  could  discover  a  subject  of  accusation  in 
the  unwashed  hands  of  his  disciples,  in  the  works  of  his 
mercy  shown  on  the  Sabbath,  how  would  they  have 
calumniated  him,  if  by  his  neglect  the  law  of  leprosy  had 
been  palpably  transgressed  !  Now,  Avhat  a  testimony  is 
afforded  to  the  power  and  truth  of  the  INIessiah !  How 
could  the  Jews,  whether  priests  or  people,  refrain  from 
believing  in  our  Savior,  when  such  a  positive  jiroof  is 
afforded  them  of  his  divine  mission?  One  of  themselves, 
even  a  teacher  of  their  own,  (Rabbi  Mcnachcm  on  Lcvit. 
13,)  asserts,  that,  by  the  common  opinion  of  his  nation, 
leprosy  is  the  finger  of  God — a  disease  peculiarly  of  his 
sending  and  removing,  and  that  it  is  not  lawful  for  the 
physician  even  to  attempt  the  cure  of  it.  How  could 
they  but  say,  when  they  saw  such  a  display  of  omnipo- 
tence, "  This  work  is  supernatural — no  limited  agency 
could  do  this — how  is  he  otherwise  than  God,  if  his 
power  be  infinite  ?"  Tljough  their  unhallowed  lips  re- 
fuse to  bear  testimony  to  the  truth,  their  own  eyes  shall 
be  witnesses  and  judges  of  their  conviction. 

The  lepers  themselves  consider  not  the  nature  of  the 
c(>mmand — they  have  respect  to  the  authority  of  him 
who  gave  it.  They  obeyed,  and  went.  Had  they  refused 
to  comply,  they  had  still  been  lepers — now,  with  what 
speed  does  the  blessing  overtake  their  obedience  1  The 
law  enjoined  this  attendance  on  the  priest,  in  case  they 
were  actually  healed — now,  they  only  anticipate  the  time 


THE    TEN    LEPERS.  383 

a  little,  and  do  that  upon  hope,  which  they  must  have 
done  afterwards,  when  hope  should  be  turned  into  joy.. 
But  how  is  the  mercy  of  Christ  heightened,  as  well  by 
the  horrid  nature  of  the  calamity  from  which  he  rescued 
his  suppliants,  as  by  the  easiness  of  the  task  he  prescrib- 
ed as  a  prelude  to  their  recovery  !  It  is  the  bounty  of 
that  God  whom  we  serve,  to  reward  our  worthless  en- 
deavors with  infinite  requitals — he  will  have  no  propor- 
tion between  our  acts  and  his  remunerations. 

Yet,  besides  this  recompense  of  obedience,  O  Lord, 
thou  hast  respect  to  thine  own  glory.  Had  not  these  le- 
})ers  been  healed  in  the  way,  but  at  the  end  of  their  jour- 
ney, the  miracle  might  not  have  been  attributed  to  thee, 
its  only  author — the  priests  might  have  challenged  it  to 
themselves — they  might  have  ascribed  it  to  the  efficacy 
of  their  own  prayers,  not  to  the  object  of  their  jealousy 
and  hatred.  Now  there  can  be  no  pretence  whatever 
for  competition — the  leprosy  vanishes  in  the  icay — nei- 
ther thy  power  nor  thy  praise  admits  of  participation. 

What  joy,  what  amazement  fill  the  hearts  of  this 
once  mournful  train,  when  each  in  the  same  moment 
finds  himself  restored  to  health,  and  to  the  enjoyment 
of  those  privileges  of  which  his  calamity  had  deprived 
him  !  How  do  they  congratulate  each  other !  how  do 
they  pant  for  the  happy  moment  when  their  fi'iends 
and  families  shall  welcome  them  to  their  aiTns  !  Tl^eir 
society,  which  had  alleviated  their  soitows,  now  height- 
ens their  new  joy. 

All  were  healed — one  only  was  properly  thankful — 
one  man  alone  forsakes  his  companions,  to  prostrate 
himself  at  the  feet  of  Christ,  and  to  acknowledge  his 
mercy.  There  are  cases  in  which  singularity  is  not  only 
lawful  but  laudable.  "  Thou  shalt  not  follow  a  multitude 
to  do  evil."  It  is  a  base  and  unworthy  thing  to  be  sub- 
jected to  the  example  of  others  in  cases  of  obvious  duty. 
When  evil  is  proposed  to  be  done,  or  good  to  be  neg- 


384  n.VLL's    SCKIPTURE    HISTORY. 

lectecl,  how  much  better  is  it  to  walk  in  the  right  path 
alone,  than  to  go  astray  with  numbers ! 

But  whom  do  we  behold  thus  pouiing  forth  the  effu- 
sions of  a  gi'ateful  heart  1  Alas,  were  there  not  ten 
cleansed  1  Where  are  the  nine  ?  One  man  only,  and  he  is 
a  Samaritan,  ascribes  the  glory  to  God,  and  shows  forth 
his  praise.  Blessed  Lord,  what  an  awful  example  is  here 
afforded  us  of  the  folly,  the  sin,  the  danger  of  spiritual 
pride  !  The  Jews,  to  whom  the  terms  of  salvation  v.-ero 
freely  offered,  neither  valued  the  gift  nor  adored  the  Giv- 
er. The  Gentiles  heard  with  joy  the  blissful  tidings — 
they  heard,  they  believed,  they  obeyed.  Now  therefore 
are  they  no  more  strangers  and  foreigners,  but  fellow-citi- 
zens with  the  saints,  and  of  the  household  of  God — and 
are  built  upon  the  foundation  of  the  apostles  and  pro- 
phets, Jesus  Christ  himself  being  the  chief  comer-stone. 

Even  now.  Lord,  but  for  thy  mercy  wc  are  aliens 
from  the  commonwealth  of  the  true  Israel — our  sins, 
like  a  leprosy,  infect  our  souls,  and  fill  our  hearts  with 
all  uncleanncss.  We  are  excluded  from  the  gate  of  hea- 
ven, into  which  no  impurity  can  enter.  Lo,  we  betake 
ourselves  to  thee — thou  beholdest  our  distress,  and  thy 
vv'ord  effects  our  deliverance.  Thou  wilt  make  us  a  clean 
heart,  O  Lord,  and  renew  a  right  sjjirit  within  us.  No 
longer  are  we  separated  from  our  God — no  longer  are 
we  objects  of  abhoiTence  to  ourselves  and  to  thee.  By 
grace  are  wc  saved,  through  faith — and  that  not  of  our- 
selves— it  is  the  gift  of  God. 

And  shall  we  then  imitate  the  churlish  ingratitude  of 
the  Jewish  objects  of  thy  favor?  Shall  we  not  hasten  to 
express,  at  thy  feet,  our  sense  of  thine  inestimable  mer- 
cies ]  Shall  we  not  turn  back  from  all  other  pursuits,  of 
what  nature  soever,  and  adore  thee,  our  Redeemer  1  Shall 
we  not  celebrate  thy  praise,  O  thou  who  alone  doest  migh- 
ty acts — whose  mercy  endureth  for  ever — who  forgivest 
all  our  iniquities — who  hcalest  all  our  diseases — who  sav* 


THE    TRANSFIGURATION.  385 

est  our  life  from  destruction — wlio  crownest  us  with  lov- 
ing-kindness and  tender  mercies  1  Angels  and  archangels 
worship  thee — the  earth  declareth  thy  power — the  hea- 
ven thy  glory.  All  thy  works  praise  thee  for  ever — let 
not  man  be  all  that  is  insensible,  all  that  is  ungrateful  in 
the  world  ! 


79.— THE    TRANSFIGURATION. 

Hitherto  have  we  contemplated  thee,  O  Lord,  in  thy 
state  of  gi'eat  humility — thy  mercy  now  vouchsafes  us  a 
glimpse  of  that  ineffable  glory,  whereof  we  can  have  no 
j)erftci  idea  on  this  side  heaven.  When  we  accompany 
thee  to  mount  Tabor,  we  there  behold  thy  majesty,  shin- 
ing even  in  this  region  of  thy  shame  and  abasement. 
What  then,  O  what  is  the  splendor  of  thy  celestial 
throne,  the  place  where  thine  holiness  and  thine  honor 
dwelleth  !  Thou,  who  didst  command  thy  chosen  disci- 
ples to  be  silent  on  the  subject  of  thy  transfiguration  till 
thou  wert  risen  from  the  dead,  now  thou  art  risen  and 
ascended,  wilt  have  it  spoken  of  throughout  the  world — 
that  all  mankind  may  acknowledge  the  fulness  of  the 
Godhead  dwelling  in  thee  bodily — that  from  this  tempo- 
rary glory  some  judgment  may  be  formed  of  that  which 
is  everlasting, 

*'  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  there  be  some  standing  here 
who  shall  not  taste  of  death  till  they  have  seen  the  Son 
of  Man  come  in  his  kingdom."  Thine  act,  O  Savior,  is 
the  best  comment  on  thy  words.  Peter  and  the  two  sons 
of  Zebedee  were  they  who  tasted  not  of  death  till  their 
eyes  had  seen  this  heavenly  image  of  the  royalty  of  their 
glorified  Master.     The  promise  is  immediately  followed 

Script.  Hiit.  17 


3S6  HALL  S    SCIUPTURE    HISTORY. 

by  its  2)eiTormaiice.  They  are  called  on  to  witness  that 
sight  \\hich  the  christian  church  views  at  this  moment 
with  the  eye  of  faith — she  beholds  the  grandeur  of  her 
Lord  and  Savior — she  rejoices,  and  is  glad. 

Tradition  has  ever  assigned  Mount  Tabor  as  the  place 
where  this  majestic  scene  was  displayed  to  the  astonish- 
ed aj^ostles.  Surely  the  j^lace  itself  was  not  chosen  with- 
out some  mysterious  import,  as  being  itself  an  image  and 
symbol  of  that  heaven  towards  which  it  arose.  How 
many  times  did  God  aj^point  his  acts  of  glory  and  mag- 
nificence to  be  done  on  these  elevated  stations  !  How 
often  is  the  region  of  eternal  blessedness  described  un- 
der the  name  of  the  holy  hill  of  God !  On  Horeb  he 
appeared  to  the  gi'cat  Shepherd  of  his  people — on  Sinai 
was  the  law  delivered  in  all  its  sublimity.  On  Moriah 
the  voice  of  Jehovah  bare  ■v\-itness  to  the  triumphant 
faith  of  Abraham — on  Rephidim  Moses  made  interces- 
sion with  God  to  crown  the  arms  of  Israel  with  victory 
and  glory — on  Ebal  and  Gerizim,  the  solemn  denuncia- 
tions of  the  wrath  of  God  against  sinners,  and  his  tender 
mercies  towards  his  faithful  servants,  were  recited  to  the 
assembled  tribes — on  Ramali  and  Gibeah  the  sons  of 
the  prophets  received  their  visions  and  revelations  from 
God — on  Carmel  the  prayer  of  Elijah  called  down  fire 
from  heaven,  when  the  Lord  oj^enly  showed  his  righ- 
teousness in  the  sight  of  all  the  people.  AVho  knows 
not  that  on  Mount  Sion  stood  that  temj^lc  which  was 
the  wonder  of  so  many  ages,  the  excellency  of  holiness 
and  majesty?  "  I  will  lift  up  mine  eyes  unto  the  hills, 
from  whence  comcth  my  help — my  help  cometh  from  the 
Lord,  who  hath  made  heaven  and  earth." 

He  whose  immensity  filleth  all  space,  knows  no  local 
distinctions — he  is  not,  as  was  once  impiously  suggested, 
"  a  CJ^od  of  the  mountains,  and  not  a  God  of  the  valleys." 
But  he  would  teach  his  peculiar  people,  that  the  viind 
should  be  raised   above  the  earth,  towards  heaven — that 


THE    TRANSFIGURATION.  3S7 

110  intervening  object  should  keep  from  our  view  tliose 
blissful  regions  to  wliicli  our  faith  and  hope  are  direct- 
ed to  ascend.  If  we  would  be  transfigured  with  Christ 
we  must  abandon  all  worldly  thoughts,  and  seek  those 
things  v.-hich  are  above — we  must  leave  below  the  cares, 
distractions,  anxiety,  labor,  sorrow,  servitude  of  the  body, 
while  with  the  spirit  and  with  the  understanding  we  go 
uj^  and  worship)  God. 

Thus  removed  from  the  busy  eye  of  curiosity,  tlie 
Savior  of  mankind  appeared  to  his  favored  discij^les  in  a 
state  of  majesty  and  glory.  His  face  did  shine  as  the 
sun — his  raiment  was  bright  as  the  light.  The  law  and 
the  prophets,  in  the  person  of  Moses  and  Elias,  appeared 
and  did  homage  to  the  Redeemer.  That  Moses,  with 
whom  the  Almighty  held  converse  as  a  m.an  talketh  to 
his  friend — that  Elias  to  Avhom  God  manifested  himself 
in  the  solitude  of  the  wilderness,  paid  their  united  adora- 
tions to  Him,  of  whom  Moses  in  the  law  and  the  pro- 
phets did  write — to  Him  who  came,  not  to  destroy,  but 
to  fulfil  their  word. 

What  comfort,  what  assurance  of  future  blessedness 
was  thus  afforded  to  those  living  witnesses  who  were 
present  at  this  stupendous  scene  !  With  what  joy  did 
they  behold  these  examples  of  the  glory  that  shall  be  re- 
vealed !  They  saw  in  Moses  and  Elias  what  themselves 
should  be,  after  they  had  passed  through  the  grave  and 
gate  of  death.  How  could  they  fear  being  miserable, 
how  could  they  be  apprehensive  at  the  idea  of  dissolu- 
tion 1  If  one  went  from  the  dead,  it  was  urged  that  he 
would  impart  conviction  to  the  most  obdurate.  It  was 
urged  in  reply,  that  Moses  and  the  prophets  bore  testi- 
mony of  equal  magnitude  and  importance.  Behold  here 
Moses  and  the  mighty  prophet,  and  them  too  come  as  it 
were  from  the  dead  !  Behold,  and  consider  that  the 
saints  of  God  are  not  lost,  but  departed — gone  into  a  far 
country  with  their  Lord,  to  receive   a   kingdom  and  to 


333  IIALl/s    SCRIPTURE    HISTORY. 

return.  They  shall  stand  at  the  latter  day  upon  the 
earth,  when  Jehovah  shall  come  with  ten  thousand  of  his 
saints.  Nor  is  this  the  condition  of  Elias  only,  who  was 
snatched  miraculously  to  heaven — Moses,  who  died  and 
was  buiied,  is  his  associate. 

And  shall  none  be  seen  with  God  but  they  who  were 
present  in  Horeb,  in  Carmel,  in  Tabor  1  When  Christ 
who  is  our  life  shall  appear,  then  shall  tve  also  appear 
with  him  in  glory.  We  shall  not  all  sleep,  but  we  shall 
all  be  changed — while  neither  our  sleep  nor  our  change 
shall  separate  us  from  our  God.  O  thou  sersant  of 
Christ,  whether  thou  art  called  on  to  die,  as  in  Mount 
Nebo,  or  whether  the  fiery  chariot  call  thee,  amidst  the 
conflagi-ation  of  a  world,  from  this  vale  of  mortality,  re- 
member that  thou  shalt  behold  his  presence  in  righteous- 
ness ;  that  when  thou  awakest  in  his  likeness,  thou  shalt 
be  satisfied  with  it  :  so  shalt  thou  triumph  over  thy  last 
and  most  dreadful  enemy,  dispelling  all  his  terrors  by 
the  blissful  foretaste  of  glorj-. 

The  amazed  discij^les  (their  senses  being  overj^ower- 
ed  by  the  magnificence  of  the  spectacle  before  them) 
seem  for  a  while  to  be  lost  in  speechless  ecstasy.  Be- 
holding unutterable  things,  they  arc  entranced,  as  in 
some  heavenly  vision.  At  last  their  joy  and  wonder  find 
words — "Master,  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  here!" 

But  while  their  eyes  are  thus  cheered  with  visions  of 
glory,  what  accents  meet  their  ears  !  On  what  subject 
do  the  great  legislator  and  the  illustrious  prophet  hold 
converse  with  their  Lord  !  In  the  presence  of  those  dis- 
ciples who  still  fondly  adhered  to  the  expectations  of  his 
temporal  kingdom,  they  spake  openly  of  his  decease — 
*'  they  spake  of  his  decease,  which  he  should  accomplish 
at  Jerusalem."  How  could  the  apostles  bear  the  idea  of 
such  a  pai-ting?  The  throne  of  David  was  in  their  eye — 
how  could  they  endure  the  scandal  of  the  cross  1  The 
society  of  their  Master  was   their  joy  and   life — it  was 


THE    TRANSFIGURATION.  389 

deatli  to  tliiiik  of  liis  departure.  Yet,  O  Lortl,  what  a 
time  dost  thou  select  for  thus  aiinouncmg  thy  passion] 
lV/i€?i  do  thy  blessed  saints  declare  the  wonders  of  thy 
love,  and  the  bitterness  of  thine  approaching  sufferings  ? 
Even  in  the  hour,  when  that  face  did  shine  as  the  sun, 
which  should  afterwards  be  bruised  and  spat  upon — 
when  that  head  was  encircled  with  glory,  which  should 
be  crowned  with  thorns — when  those  garments  -^vere 
bright  and  glittering,  which  should  be  torn  and  divided 
by  thy  rapacious  and  merciless  executioners — when  thou 
wast  adored  by  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect,  who 
shouldst  be  scorned  by  the  basest  of  men — in  a  word, 
when  thou  wast  invested  with  the  majesty  of  the  eternal 
God,  who  shouldst  afterwards  be  exposed  to  the  utmost 
extremity  of  reproach,  and  shame,  and  torture.  O  Lord, 
we  learn  by  this  great  example  the  proper  subject  of 
our  most  solemn  meditations.  We  will  never  forget  thy 
mercy — we  will  at  no  period  whatever  lose  sight  of 
the  wonders  of  thy  love.  Henceforth  will  we  *'  know 
nothing  save  Jems  Chrhl  and  him  ci'ucified.^* 

O  Savior,  if  thou  wert  so  glorious  in  Tabor,  what  art 
thou  now  in  heaven  ]  If  this  were  the  brightness  of  thy 
human  nature,  what  is  the  excellence  of  thy  Godhead  1 
Of  this  fulness  we  shall  all  receive.  Thou  art  our  head, 
we  are  thy  members.  We  are  already  delivered  from 
sorrow — hereafter  shall  we  be  received  unto  joy.  Thou 
shalt  change  our  vile  body,  that  it  may  be  like  unto  thy 
glorious  body.  These  earthly  tabernacles  shall  be  bright 
as  the  sun — heaven  itself  shall  be  manifest  on  our  coun- 
tenances— we  shall  be  clothed  upon  with  immortality — 
and  in  our  flesh  we  shall  see  God. 

Let  us  look  on  ourselves,  not  so  much  with  contempt 
of  what  we  are,  and  were,  as  in  the  joyful  hope  of  what 
we  shall  be.  And  when  our  courage  is  tried  by  the 
change  of  our  bodies  from  health  to  sickness,  from  life  to 
death,  let  us  comfort  ourselves  with  the  assurance  of  this 


390  hall's  scripture  history. 

change  from  dust  to  incorruption.  We  are  not  more  sure 
of  our  grave  than  our  transfiguration.  "  All  the  days  of 
our  ajjpointed  time  will  we  wait  till  our  change  come," 


SO.— THE    TRA'NSFlGVRATlO:<i—conti7iued. 

The  display  of  heavenly  glory  which  shone  around  the 
disciples  seems  almost  too  magnificent  for  human  nature 
to  sustain.  Its  effect  upon  their  minds  must  be  conceiv- 
ed— it  cannot  be  painted  or  described.  Scarcely  do  they 
lift  up  their  eyes  to  this  manifestation  of  the  divine 
Majesty,  when  they  cry,  in  broken  accents  of  rapture, 
"  Master,  Master,  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  here  !"  They 
are  anxious  to  prolong  the  stay  of  their  celestial  guests — 
"  Let  ws  make  here  three  tabernacles — 07ie  for  thee,  and 
one  for  Moses,  and  one  for  Elias.  Here  let  us  abide,  and 
all  earthly  honors,  riches,  pleasures,  glories  will  be  vaiu 
and  contemptible.  One  day,  one  moment  in  this  blessed 
society  is  better  than  a  thousand  years  spent  in  the 
enjoyment  of  all  that  is  dear  or  valuable  to  mortals." 

Lo,  while  they  thus  speak  a  cloud  overshadows  them. 
That  cloud  was  of  old  the  testimony  of  God's  presence 
— it  covered  the  mountain,  the  tabernacle,  the  oracle. 
While  it  bore  witness  to  the  majesty  of  Jehovah,  it  sig- 
nified that  such  majesty  was  not  for  the  eyes  of  man  to 
behold.  Hereafter  a  day  will  come  when  we  shall  have 
the  light  without  a  cloud,  the  clear  vision  and  fruition  of 
God  without  any  manner  of  interposition.  With  him  is 
the  well-spring  of  life — in  liis  light  we  shall  see  light. 

What  astonishment  was  in  the  souls  of  the  disciples 
while  they  stood  encompassed  by  that  bright  cloud,  ex- 
pecting some  miraculous  event  at  the  close  of  the  heav- 


THE    TRANSFIGURATION.  391 

enly  vision!  With  what  inexpressible  awe  did  they  hear 
those  sacred  words  resounding  in  their  ears — *'  This  is 
my  beloved  Son,  in  tchom  I  am  well  pleased — hea?-  kini.'^ 
They  need  not  be  told  whose  that  voice  was.  The  place, 
the  words,  the  subject  evinced  it.  No  angel  of  heaven 
could  have  presumed  to  utter  those  expressions,  where- 
by the  Lord  God  omnipotent  bore  witness  to  the  Savior 
of  mankind.  How  gladly  doth  Peter  afterwards  repeat 
them,  to  establish  and  strengthen  the  faith  and  hope  of 
his  converts  !  "  We  have  not  followed  cunningly  de- 
vised fables,  when  we  made  known  unto  you  the  power 
and  coming  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  but  were  eye-wit- 
nesses of  his  majesty.  For  he  received  from  God.  the 
Father,  honor  and  glory,  when  there  came  such  a  voice 
to  him  from  the  excellent  glory,  T/iis  is  my  beloved  Son, 
in  lohom  I  am  loell  pleased.  And  this  voice  (which  came 
from  heaven)  we  heard  when  we  were  with  him  in  the 
holy  mount." 

Twice  did  God  speak  these  words  from  heaven — at 
the  baptism  and  the  transfiguration  of  his  Son.  Here 
they  are  uttered  as  a  direct  and  irrefragable  testimony  of 
the  Messiah.  Moses  and  Elias  were  servants — or  if  sons, 
they  were  made  so  by  grace  and  adoption.  Here  is  the 
eternal  Son  of  the  eternal  Father,  united  with  him  in 
one  essence,  so  beloved,  that  in  him,  and  for  his  sake,  he 
is  well  pleased  with  all  mankind.  Herein  is  love,  infi- 
nite, incomprehensible  as  the  God  fi'om  whom  it  flows — 
love,  not  confined  to  the  ever-blessed  Jesus,  but  extend- 
ed to  his  children,  his  disciples,  his  friends,  his  servants 
— yea,  to  all  mankind.  Without  Christ,  there  is  nothing 
but  enmity  betwixt  Grod  and  the  soul — with  him,  all  is 
love  and  peace.  Behold  the  Son  of  God,  the  reconciler 
of  the  world,  the  teacher  and  legislator  of  his  church  ! 
Behold  him,  demanding  our  faith,  our  love,  our  adora- 
tion, our  obedience  !  O  Lord,  we  obey,  we  love,  we 
believe,  we  adore.     The  Lord  is  our   Judge,  the  Loi'd 


392 

is  our  Lawgiver,  the  Lord  is  our  King,  he  will  save  us. 

The  bright  cloud  caused  wonder  in  the  disciples — hut 
the  voice,  though  the  voice  of  mercy,  overpowered  their 
mortal  faculties.  Who  can  blame  a  frail  and  perishable 
creature  for  being  thus  affected  by  the  voice  of  his  Crea- 
tor? Yet  this  word  was  merely  an  exhortation  to  obe- 
dience unto  life.  O  God,  what  shall  be  the  hoiTor  ai:.l 
consternation  of  thine  enemies  when  they  hear  the  dread- 
ful sentence  of  death  ?  Who  shall  not  be  afraid  in  that 
awful  hour,  when  they  who  have  slighted  the  gracious 
invitations  of  thy  love  shall  call  on  the  rocks  to  hide 
them  from  the  terror  of  thy  judgments  ! 

The  God  of  mercy  pities  our  infirmities.  While  the 
disciples  lay  in  a  state  of  amazement,  their  whole  souls 
absorbed  by  what  they  had  seen  and  heard,  the  voice 
of  the  Redeemer  of  mankind  awakened  and  comforted 
them — "Arise,  and  be  not  afraid!"  That  voice  might 
well  raise  them  from  the  earth  which  shall  hereafter  re- 
call them  from  the  grave.  O  Savior,  let  those  accents 
cheer  us,  let  that  gracious  hand  be  extended  to  our  re- 
lief; whether  we  are  entranced  in  sorrow,  or  sleeping 
in  vain  security,  or  even  dead  in  sin,  we  shall  arise. 

**  They  looked  up  and  saw  no  man,  save  Jesus  alone." 
They  saw  him,  and  doubtless  in  his  wonted  form.  All 
was  now  gone — Moses,  Elias,  the  cloud,  the  voice,  the 
radiant  majesty.  Heaven  will  not  allow  to  earth  any 
long  continuance  of  its  glory.  Constant  happiness  can 
only  be  looked  for  and  enjoyed  in  those  regions  where 
we  shall  behold  our  Savior  in  his  unchangeable  bright- 
ness— where  the  light  shall  be  never  clouded. 

Moses  and  Elias  are  gone — Christ  only  is  left.  The 
glory  of  the  law  and  of  the  prophets  was  but  temporary 
— it  endured  but  for  a  moment,  that  the  bringing  in 
of  a  better  hope  might  be  more  conspicuous,  more 
perfect.  Jesus  Christ  alone  is  the  same  yesterday,  an<l 
to-day,  and  for  ever.     They  came  but  to  bear  testimony 


THE    TRAXSFIGURATIO.V.  393 

to  the  Messiah — when  that  is  done  they  are  vanished. 

But  why  should  their  departure  occasion  any  regi-et  to 
the  disciples,  as  long  as  their  Master  was  yet  with  them '? 
Had  Jesus  been  gone  away,  it  had  been  little  satisfaction 
to  them,  when  they  recovered  their  scattered  senses,  that 
Moses  or  Elias,  or  both  were  yet  on  the  mount.  Their 
society,  though  glorious,  could  not  have  comforted  them 
— their  absence  affords  not  a  moment's  sorrow.  O  Sa- 
vior, it  matters  not  who  is  away,  as  long  as  thou  art  on 
our  right  hand  to  helj^  and  defend  us.  Thou  art  God 
all-sufficient — while  thou  art  our  Shepherd  we  can  lack 
nothing:  though  we  walk  through  the  valley  of  the  sha- 
dow of  death,  we  will  not  fear ;  for  thou  art  with  us. 

But,  O  blessed  Lord,  why  are  thine  enraptured  dis- 
ciples compelled  to  silence  ]  Why  may  they  not  impart 
to  their  companions,  why  may  they  not  publish  to  the 
world,  the  majesty  and  greatness  of  their  Lord  1  It  is 
sufficient  that  thy  wisdom  gave  the  charge,  which  it  had 
been  impiety  and  madness  to  disobey.  It  is  not  for  frail 
mortality  to  know  the  times  and  the  seasons  which  thou 
hast  put  in  thine  own  power.  The  day  was  not  far  dis- 
tant v/hen  thy  rising  from  the  dead  should  take  off  all 
restrictions — when  the  chosen  witnesses  of  thy  transfigu- 
ration should  no  longer  be  obliged  to  conceal  the  heaven- 
ly vision  ;  but  should  be  at  full  liberty  to  confirm  the  faith 
of  thy  church,  by  recounting  this   prelude  of  thy  glory. 

In  the  meantime  they  are  prepared  for  the  distressful 
scenes  about  to  follow — "  Let  these  sayings  sink  down 
into  your  ears — for  the  Son  of  man  shall  be  delivered 
into  the  hands  of  men."  Be  not  dismayed,  nor  shaken 
in  your  faith,  when  you  see  your  Master  betrayed,  tor- 
mented, basely  and  sacrilegiously  murdered.  Let  not 
your  hearts  be  troubled — ye  believe  in  God — believe 
also  in  me.  Ye  have  seen  a  portion  of  my  glory — be 
not  discouraged  or  oflended  when  ye  shall  be  once 
more  selected  from  your  brethren  to  witness  mine 
17* 


394  hall's  scripture  history. 

agony.     In    that    awful,   that    tremendous    moment,    re- 
member the  bright  vision  on  Mount  Tabor. 

And  can  we  then  be  ignorant,  O  Savior,  of  the  proper 
object  of  our  hopes  and  desires  1  Can  we  return  to 
earth,  after  these  subUme  meditations,  witliout  tlie  most 
ardent  aspirations  after  that  heaven  which  we  have  seen 
foreshadowed  l  There  we  shall  be  admitted  to  the  par- 
ticipation of  thy  blessedness — we  shall  be  received  into 
the  city  of  the  living  God,  to  the  general  assembly  and 
church  of  the  first-born,  to  the  spirits  of  just  men  made 
perfect,  to  thee  our  gracious  Redeemer,  wlio  sittest  on 
the  throne  of  thy  co-eternal  Father.  How  can  we  be 
attached  to  the  delusions  of  the  world,  how  can  we 
dote  on  the  misery  of  this  fading  life,  and  not  rather 
fly  up  to  the  felicity  of  saints,  to  the  society  of  angels,  to 
that  blessed  contemplation,  when  we  shall  see  God  in 
himself,  God  in  us,  ourselves  in  Him  l  There  shall  be 
no  son'ow,  no  complaint,  no  fear,  no  death.  There  no 
malice  shall  rise  against  us,  no  misery  afflict  us,  no  hun- 
ger, thirst,  weariness,  painfulness,  temptation,  shall  set 
themselves  in  an-ay  against  us.  There  shall  be  rest  from 
our  labors,  peace  from  our  enemies,  freedom  from  our 
sins.  How  many  clouds  of  anxiety  darken  the  sunshine 
of  our  joy  while  we  remain  here  below  !  Complaint  of 
,  evils  past,  sense  of  present,  apprehension  of  future,  share 
our  lives  amongst  them.  But  there  shall  we  be  always 
joyful,  always  beholding  the  presence  of  .Him  who  hath 
purchased  and  prepared  for  us  this  unutterable  glory. 

Heaviness  may  endure  for  a  night,  but  joy  cometh  in 
the  morning.  O  my  soul,  is  there  a  heaven  '?  is  there  a 
Savior?  is  there  jnire  and  perfect  felicity  under  the 
shadow  of  his  wings  ]  Lift  up  thine  eyes  to  the  ever- 
lasting hills — contemn  the  specious  oflers  of  the  world — 
acknowledge  its  misery  and  mutability — and  fixing  thy 
thoughts  on  the  regions  of  eternal  bliss,  exclaim,  Lord, 
it  is  good  for  us  to  be  there ! 


THE  LUNATIC  HEALED.  395 


81.— THE    LUNATIC    HEALED. 

AVherefore,  O  Lord,  when  thou  didst  return  from  the 
scene  of  thy  glorious  tran,s figuration,  were  the  people 
greatly  amazed  ]  Why  did  they  fly  to  thee  with  eager 
impatience  ?  Why  salute  thee  with  more  than  common 
veneration  ?  Was  it  not,  that  some  remains  of  glory 
overshadowed  thy  countenance  1  Was  it  not  that  the 
form  which  veiled  thy  divinity  bore  testimony  to  thy 
celestial  origin  ! — that  like  thy  great  forerunner,  with 
whom  thou  hadst  been  discoursing,  when  thou  earnest 
down  from  the  mount,  thy  face  shone  with  more  than 
mortal  radiance  ]  Thou  couldst  not  altogether,  and  in  a 
moment,  divest  thyself  of  thy  splendor.  When  the  gi'eat 
luminary  of  heaven  has  finished  his  daily  course,  the  eye 
still  fixes  itself  with  admiration  on  the  vivid  colors  of 
the  twilight. 

Whik  our  Savior  was  transfigured  on  IMount  Tabor, 
his  disciples  who  remained  in  the  valley  had  been  in  a 
state  of  perplexity  and  distress.  Three  of  his  followers 
were  with  him  on  those  heights,  transported  with  joy  at 
the  miraculous  proofs  of  his  Godhead — the  rest  were 
attempting,  but  in  vain,  to  deliver  a  miserable  demoniac 
from  tormenting  frenzy. 

Much  people  had  assembled  to  attend  on  Christ,  and 
they  will  not  depart  till  he  is  come  down  from  the  moun- 
tain. Their  patient  assiduity  detained  them  on  the  spot 
whither  their  zeal  and  devotion  had  originally  led  them. 
We  are  not  worthy  the  name  of  his  servants,  if  we  do 
not  diligently  seek  the  face  of  our  Master,  and  wait  for 
his  salvation. 

After  his  retirement  from  the  world,  to  hold  converse 
with  his  eternal  Father,  and  to  receive  the  homage  of 
i\Ioses  and  Elias,  he  returns  into  the  plain  to  the  multi- 
tude.    He  had  been  called  apart  for  a  season,  to  prayer 


396  hall's   scripture  history. 

and  contemplation — now  lie  brings  tlie  gilts  of  healing, 
and  imparts  his  divine  instructions  to  the  people.  The 
ministers  and  stewards  of  his  mysteries  may  learn  their 
duty  from  the  example  of  their  Lord — they  must  either 
be  preparing  themselves,  or  seeking  the  conversion  of 
others — one  while  in  meditation,  afterwards  in  action  — 
alone,  to  study  ;  in  the  assembly  to  preach.  They  must 
give  attention  to  "  reading  as  w^ell  as  to  exhortation  and 
doctrine." 

Moses,  when  he  came  down  from  the  mount,  heard 
the  shouts  of  idolatry  in  the  valley — Christ  is  assailed  by 
the  noise  of  tumultuous  discord.  The  scribes  were  en- 
gaged in  vehement  controversy  with  his  disciples — they 
saw  the  Master  absent,  they  saw  a  part  of  his  train  left 
behind,  and  they  esteem  this  a  proper  moment  for  their 
assaults.  The  children  of  darkness  avail  themselves  of  all 
advantages ;  still  do  they  direct  their  weapons  at  the  most 
defenceless.  If  we  are  for  a  moment  removed  from  Him 
whom  our  soul  loveth,  we  are  buffeted  with  powerful 
temptations. 

Our  vSavior,  while  yet  on  the  mount,  well  knew  what 
was  passing  in  the  valley — he  hastens  to  the  support  of 
his  disciples.  As  the  darkness  flies  before  the  dawn,  as 
the  cloudy  vapor  is  dispelled  by  the  sunbeam,  so  do  these 
cavils  vanish  at  the  presence  of  Christ.  Never  was  it 
more  conspicuous  than  at  this  moment,  that  mankind  in 
beholding  him  saw  the  glory  of  the  only-begotten  of  the 
Father.  Instead  of  opposition,  they  are  on  their  knees 
— here  are  now  no  quarrels,  but  humble  salutations — 
malice,  envy,  prejudice  itself  is  hushed  in  silent  awe. 

The  solemn  pause  is  interrupted  by  the  earnest  sup- 
plications of  an  afflicted  parent.  He  had  in  vain  applied 
to  the  disciples,  whose  inability  to  afford  him  relief  had 
doubtless  exposed  them  to  the  scorn  and  sarcasms  of 
the  envious  scribes.  He  noAv,  vnxh.  better  hope  of  suc- 
cess, caats  himself  at  the  feet  of  Jesus.    Whom  will  not 


THE  LUNATIC  HEALED.  397 

sorrow  make  both  humble  and  eloquent  1  The  case  was 
a  case  of  more  than  common  distress ;  and  it  was  de- 
scribed accordingly.  The  child  is  lunatic — and  that  not 
merely  from  natural  disorder,  but  from  the  possession  of 
a  cruel  and  merciless  spirit  which  vexed  him  with  inces- 
sant torture — a  spirit  which,  triumphing  in  successful 
malignity,  yielded  not  to  the  power  of  the  sei'vants  of 
Christ.  *'  I  besought  thy  disciples  to  cast  him  out,  and 
they  could  not — therefore,  Lord,  have  thou  mercy  on  my 
son."  Despair  of  other  help  sends  us  immediately  to 
the  God  of  our  salvation.  Here  only  was  the  parent's 
refuge.  The  *'  strong  man  armed "  had  seized  on  his 
child — none  but  a  stronger  than  he  could  dispossess 
him.  O  God,  spiritual  wickednesses  are  ever  ready  to 
invade  our  souls — all  human  help  is  insufficient — thy 
mercy,  combined  with  thy  power,  can  alone  effect  our 
deliverance. 

Who  can  listen,  without  shuddeiing  to  this  tale  of 
wo,  to  the  recital  of  sufferings  like  these  1  Frenzy  has 
taken  possession  of  this  miserable  youth — its  fury  is  sec- 
onded by  the  malignant  spirit,  which  at  one  time  be- 
reaves him  of  his  intellect,  at  another  restores  it,  to  his 
torment — at  one  time  exhibits  him  a  fearful  spectacle  of 
raging  madness,  foaming  and  gnashing  his  teeth — at 
another,  languishing  and  pining  away  in  melancholy  de- 
jection— casts  him,  sometimes  into  the  fire,  sometimes 
into  the  water — (but  rather  for  torture  than  dis2:>atch — it 
was  too  much  mercy  to  let  him  die  at  once) — rejoices  in 
the  complicated  mischief  which  he  had  brought  on  the 
creature  of  God.  O  Savior,  what  enemies  have  we  to 
encounter !  how  unequal  are  we  to  the  conflict,  without 
thy  gracious  aid !  Blessed  be  that  triumph  of  thine, 
which  deprived  the  principalities  and  powers  of  dark- 
ness of  their  usurped  dominion,  and  brought  light  and 
salvation  to  thy  people  ! 

Who    can    listen   without    shuddering  to  this  tale  cf 


398  hall's  scripture  iilstory. 

wo  ]  Eut  sliall  we  be  insensible  of  those  still  more 
giicvous  miseries  wherewith  Satan  endeavors  to  over- 
whelm our  souls  ?  Lo,  he  seeks  to  cast  us  into  that  fire 
whose  everlasting  burnings  know  no  intermission — to 
distract  and  torture  us  with  inordinate  cares  and  sorrows 
— to  make  us  rave,  with  ineftectual  struggles,  at  the 
afflicting  hand  of  God — or  pine  and  languish  in  a  state 
of  spiritual  decay,  the  victims  of  misery  and  desj^air. 

The  unhappy  father  had  not  neglected  the  means  of 
his  son's  recovery — he  had  brought  him  to  the  disciples 
of  Christ,  not  as  seeking  them,  but  their  Master.  In  the 
mysterious  absence  of  Christ  he  sought  for  his  remedy  at 
their  hands.  Often  had  tliey  prevailed  over  the  spirits  of 
disobedience — often  had  they  exultingly  declared,  "Lord, 
even  the  devils  are  subject  to  us  by  thy  word."  With  a 
degree  of  confidence  therefore  had  the  suppliant  address- 
ed them — and  now  hov/  does  his  heart  sink  within  him 
Avhen  he  finds  that  his  hope  is  frustrated  ?  "  They  could 
not  cast  him  out."  No  doubt  the  disciples  laid  their 
wonted  chai'ge  on  this  stubborn  sj^irit — that  charge 
which  hitherto  had  never  been  without  its  eflficacy. 
With  the  utmost  gi'ief  and  consternation  they  behold 
themselves  baffled  and  overpowered,  even  in  the  pre- 
sence of  their  insulting  enemies.  Scarcely  was  the  father 
of  the  demoniac  more  troubled  at  this  event  than  them- 
selves. Perhaps  they  feared  that  their  Master  had  (with 
himself)  withdrawn  that  power  which  he  had  commis- 
sioned them  to  exercise.  They  knew  not  the  purpose  of 
his  departure,  or  the  time  of  his  return.  Was  he  ascend- 
ed into  the  heavens  like  the  pro2:)het  of  old,  and  had  he 
forborne  to  leave  a  portion  of  his  spirit  upon  his  followers  ] 

When  Moses  went  up  into  the  mount,  the  faith  and 
piety  of  the  Israelites  vanished  with  their  guide.  The 
followers  of  Christ  were  not  thus  unmindful  of  their  duty 
—  but  the  God  whom  they  served  would  nevertheless 
make  them  remember  his  own  supremacy.    lie  is  no  less 


THE    LUxNATIC    HEALED.  399 

glorified  in  our  disappointment  than  in  our  success.  If 
his  graces  were  always  at  our  command,  they  would 
seem  naturally  our  own,  and  would  excite  a  far  less  de- 
gi'ee  of  gratitude  to  their  Author — now  we  are  justly 
held  in  an  awful  dependance  on  that  gracious  hand, 
which  gives,  but  excites  not  vanity — denies,  but  leads 
not  to  despair. 

The  father  of  the  demoniac  complains  not  of  the  dis- 
ciples' inability  to  help — it  had  been  injurious  to  have  con- 
sidered as  a  crime  what  they  felt  that  they  could  not  do. 
In  his  address  to  our  Lord  he  merely  alleges  the  stub- 
bornness, and  laments  the  invincible  obstinacy  of  that 
evil  spirit. 

And  will  not  a  compassionate  Savior  extend  his  accus- 
tomed mercy  to  this  afflicted  parent  and  his  miserable 
child  ?  Will  not  that  gracious  voice  speak  comfort  to 
the  troubled  soul,  and  mitigate  those  heart-rending  sor- 
rows ]  Alas,  what  do  we  hear] — "O  faithless  and  per- 
verse generation,  how  long  shall  I  be  with  you  ?  hov/ 
long  shall  I  suffer  you  f  O  Savior,  a  bruised  reed  thou 
wouldst  not  break — thou  wouldst  not  add  more  sorrov/ 
to  a  heart  that  was  grieved — the  cavils  of  thy  malignant 
enemies,  cavils  too  eagerly  listened  to  by  the  impatience 
of  soiTow,  occasion  these  expressions  of  just  displeasure. 

But  soon  shall  that  faith  be  revived  which  the  sugges- 
tion of  infidelity  had  caused  to  droop — he  who  had  for  a 
time  been  tempted  to  despair,  shall  suddenly  be  awaken- 
ed to  joyful  hope — "  Bring  thy  son  hither — if  thou  canst 
believe,  all  things  are  possible  to  him  that  believcth." 

What  a  happy  change  is  here!  "How  long  shall  I  suf- 
fer you  ? — Bring  him  hither  to  me."  The  one  is  a  word 
of  anger,  the  other  of  favor  ;  his  indignation  does  not  im- 
pede his  heavenly  goodness.  In  the  midst  of  judgment 
he  remembers,  he  exercises  mercy — his  sun  sliineth  in 
the  midst  of  the  storm.  Whether  he  smile  or  frown,  it  is 
all  for  one  purpose,  that  he  may  support  the  weak  and  con- 


400  hall's    SCKIPTURn    iii^torv. 

vince  the  disobedient.  O  blessed  Savior,  wliitliev  sljould 
thy  ministers  direct  the  power  which  tliou  hast  given  tliem 
but  to  edification,  and  not  to  destruction  1  They  are 
physicians — they  arc  not  executioners  :  they  give  medi- 
cines to  heal,  not  poisons  to  kill.  Till  that  day  when  an 
all-righteous  Judge  shall  say  to  the  wicked,  "  Depart 
from  me,"  it  is  the  office  of  his  ambassadors  to  invite 
them  with  tender  entreaties  to  tlie  participation  of  mercy. 

Already  have  these  coals  of  fire  melted  the  heart  of 
this  anxious  supjjliant.  Tears  of  penitential  soitow  burst 
from  his  eyes — "Lord,  I  believe — /)clp  thou  mi)U  unbelief. 
Pity  and  forgive  a  wretched  father,  whom  excess  of  mis- 
cry  has  betrayed  into  a  momentary  distrust — let  not  my 
infirmities  prevent  the  restoration  of  my  cliild.  O  gra- 
cious and  lioly  prophet,  visit  not  my  faults  on  him  !" 

The  youth  is  brought  into  the  midst,  that  the  scribes 
themselves  might  witness  both  the  conflict  and  the  vic- 
tory— the  devil  is  rebuked,  and  driven  out — that  power- 
ful spirit  which  would  not  obey  the  commands  of  the 
disciples,  stoops  to  the  voice  of  the  Master — the  almighty 
Word  which  in  the  beginnino^  cast  him  out  of  heaven, 
can  easily  remove  him  from  an  earthly  tabernacle.  If 
the  Lord  rebuke  thee,  Satan,  how  canst  thou  do  other- 
wise than  flee  ? 

The  disciples,  troubled  at  their  own  want  of  success, 
anxiously  inquire  its  reason  :  little  imagining  that  they 
should  hear  their  unbelief  assigned  as  the  cause  of  their 
disappointment.  Had  they  not  been  deficient  in  faith, 
they  had  not  been  deficient  in  jjowcr.  Meanwhile  they 
must  pray  to  God  that  they  may  have  the  victory — they 
must  fast,  to  make  this  prayer  more  effectual.  We  can- 
not now  command — but  we  can  fast  and  pray.  Our  God 
iiath  not  withdrawn  from  his  servants  the  means  of 
quenching  the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked.  If  we  are  in- 
vested with  christian  armor,  Jehovah  will  fight  for  us — 
Satan  cannot  prevail  ngainst  us. 


BETIIE.SDA.  401 


82.— B  E  T  H  E  S  D  A  . 


In  the  various  actions  of  his  life,  our  blessed  Savior 
•was  an  example  not  only  of  moral  virtue,  but  of  religious 
obedience.  The  law  enjoined  every  Hebrew  to  present 
himself  three  times  in  the  year  before  the  Lord.  Though, 
as  a  Son,  he  might  have  pleaded  exemption  from  this 
tribute  of  seiTice,  he  wovild  not  omit  one  of  those  ceremo- 
nies which  himself  had  enjoined.  Thus  did  it  become 
him  to  fulfil  all  righteousness,  whatever  dangers  might 
attend  on  the  exercise  of  his  duty.  He  had  been  con- 
strained to  depart  from  Jerusalem,  through  the  malice 
of  those  enemies  who  sought  his  life,  ere  he  had  yet 
accomplished  the  work  of  Him  that  sent  him — he  now 
returas,  unappalled  by  every  danger,  regardless  of  all 
the  fury  of  his  adversaries — "  In  the  volume  of  the  book 
it  is  written  of  me,  I  delight  to  do  thy  will,  O  my  God — 
yea,  thy  law  is  within  my  heart." 

O  Lord,  how  wonderful  are  thy  works,  whether  per- 
formed in  the  ordinary  course  of  thy  providence,  or  by 
the  immediate  interference  of  thine  almighty  power,  or 
by  the  ministry  of  thy  holy  angels  !  Every  where  we 
find  just  cause  of  astonishment,  just  subject  of  adoration. 
In  particular,  how  didst  thou  vouchsafe  to  display  thy 
miracles  to  thy  peculiar  people,  notwithstanding  their 
blindness  and  apostacy  !  If  thou  hadst  not  done  among 
them  works  which  no  other  nation  beheld — if  thou  hadst 
not  revealed  thyself  to  them  in  a  manner  which  no  other 
nation  ever  experienced,  they  had  not  exhibited  such 
a  fearful  example  of  obduracy  and  ingi^atitude.  Now 
**  have  they  both  seen  and  hated  both  thee  and  thy  Fa- 
ther ■' — although  the  works  which  were  wrought  among 
them  bore  such  witness  to  the  truth — although  the  de- 
monstrations of  thy  power  were  such  as  called  for  uni- 
versal conviction  fiom  mankind. 


402  hall's  scripture  history. 

The  miraculous  waters  of  Bethesda  fixed  on  their 
brink  a  multitude  of  sufferers.  There,  in  anxious  expec- 
tation, they  waited  for  that  moment  which  should  bring 
comfort  to  one,  disappointment  to  multitudes.  When 
the  troubled  state  of  the  waters  announced  that  the  heav- 
enly visitant  had  bestowed  on  them  their  medicinal  vir- 
tue, these  jealous  competitors  rushed  forward  with  eager 
impatience,  in  hope  of  that  gift  of  healing  which  await- 
ed him  who  first  plunged  himself  into  the  stream. 
Blessed  Lord,  how  vast,  how  unlimited  are  those  mer- 
cies which  the  bringing  in  of  a  better  hope  secured  to 
thy  creatures  !  The  grace  of  God  which  bringeth  salva- 
tion hath  appeared  unto  all  men.  "  Whosoever  will,  let 
him  come  and  take  the  water  of  life  freely.  In  my 
Father's  house  are  many  mansions.  Come  unto  me, 
all  yc  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give 
you  rest." 

Among  these  companions  in  misery,  our  Savior  be- 
holds a  wretched  man,  who  for  eight-and-thirty  years 
had  supported  life  under  circumstances  which  seemed  to 
render  it  an  almost  intolerable  burden.  Alas,  what  called 
this  unhappy  sufferer  to  the  waters  of  Bethesda '?  What 
reasonable  ground  of  expectation  could  he  possibly  en- 
tertain that  his  endeavors  would  be  crowned  with  suc- 
cess, in  a  trial  which  depended  on  personal  speed  and  ac- 
tivity ]  Others,  affected  in  a  different  manner,  must  ne- 
cessarily have  the  preference.  Vain  must  be  the  attempts 
of  one,  bowed  down  to  the  earth  by  2:)ainful  infirmity,  to 
outstrip  his  fellows.  Yet  still  does  he  persist — still  does 
the  energy  of  hope  teach  him  to  remain  at  that  spot 
where  alone  he  deemed  a  possibility  of  cure  to  be  ex- 
pected. He  persists,  and  continues  his  anxious  labor — 
each  returning  season  bringing  along  with  it  fresh  hojies 
and  fresh  disappointment. 

O  ye  that  are  afflicted  with  spiritual  diseases,  come 
to  that  living  fjuntain  which  is  opened  for  sin  and  for 


BETHESDA.  403 

uncleanness.  Approach  the  well-spring  of  life — those 
never-failing  streams  whose  virtues  are  not  temporary, 
whose  blessings  are  not  confined  to  one  competitor — 
where  every  one  that  asketli  receiveth,  and  he  that  seek- 
eth  findeth,  and  none  who  apply  with  faith  are  sent 
empty  and  despairing  away.  Do  ye  complain  of  the 
blindness  of  your  ignorance  1  Here  shall  yo  receive 
clearness  of  sight — Of  the  infirmity  of  your  best  resolu- 
tions ]  here  ye  shall  obtain  a  fresh  supply  of  grace — Of 
the  tumultuous  frenzy  of  passion  ?  here  is  peace  to  the 
troubled  soul — Of  the  cold  and  withered  languor  of  your 
zeal  and  piety]-  here  is  life,  and  strength,  and  activity 
freely  offered  to  your  acceptance.  Whatsoever  sickness, 
whatsoever  danger,  whatsoever  sorrow  there  be,  come  to 
your  Savior,  and  be  healed. 

Yet  even  here,  as  at  Bethesda,  the  God  of  all  hope 
will  exercise  the  patience  of  his  servants.  He  will  have 
us  sensible  of  the  value  of  those  blessings  we  solicit,  that 
when  they  are  imparted  to  us  we  may  both  enjoy  them 
and  praise  his  mercy  the  more.  How  enviously  did  these 
sufferers  at  the  medicinal  stream  look  on  each  other  as 
rivals  !  How  did  they  watch,  and  suspect,  and  scruti- 
nize, and  struggle  for  a  preference  !  How,  like  the  jeal- 
ous candidates  for  earthly  honors,  did  they  esteem  their 
expectation  itself  to  be  misery,  and  their  disappointment 
torture  !  But  he  who  commits  his  way  unto  the  Lord 
must  hope  for  those  gifts  which  he  bestows  at  his  own 
time,  and  in  such  a  manner  as  is  good  in  his  sight.  O 
that  men  would  thus  tarry  at  the  true  Bethesda,  the 
house  of  the  Father  of  mercies  and  of  all  comfort — O 
that  men  would  "  wait  for  thy  loving-kindness,  O  Lord, 
in  the  midst  of  thy  temple  !"  Did  they  diligently  attend 
thine  ordinances,  did  they  value  their  own  happiness 
aright,  they  could  not  fail  of  those  blessings  which  thou 
hast  covenanted  to  bestow.  Alas,  here,  and  here  only, 
are  they  faint,  remiss  and  indolent !     If  their  temporal 


404  hall's    SCRiPTURE    IIISTORV. 

welfare  is  to  be  consulted,  tliey  tany  long,  anJ  endure 
patiently,  and  toil,  that  they  may  toil  yet  longer;  submit- 
ting to  certain  misery  for  the  sake  of  a  few  uncertain 
days  of  happiness.  Why  is  it  not  thus  with  the  soul  ? 
The  wretched  patient  at  Bethesda,  without  even  the 
probable  means  of  support  or  comfort,  would  yet  attempt, 
yet  labor  to  attain  the  object  of  his  wishes.  And  can  we 
not,  blessed  Lord,  can  wo  not  then  be  equally  solicitous 
to  accomplish-  the  work  of  our  salvation]  Can  we  not  be 
as  ardent  in  our  endeavors  for  our  spiritual  recovery  1 
What  can  be  more  important — what  of  nearer  moment 
— what  better  deserving  our  most  animated  exertions, 
than  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus  ? 

Our  Savior  when  he  beheld  this  child  of  sorrow,  when 
in  accents  of  loving-kindness  and  tender  mercy  he  spoke 
as  one  that  was  touched  with  the  feeling  of  his  infirmity, 
did  not  ask  the  question  without  effect.  He  did  not  kin- 
dle the  spark  of  hope  in  the  sufferer's  breast,  to  check  it 
by  subsequent  despair.  Christ,  the  2)Ower  of  God,  said 
unto  the  sick  man  "Arise  " — and  he  arose. 

And  wilt  thou  then,  O  sinner,  be  made  whole  ?  Look 
unto  Jesus,  the  Author  and  Finisher  of  our  faith,  and 
thou  shalt  be  saved.  Though  thou  art  bowed  down  to 
the  earth  with  infirmity,  stooping  under  thy  grievous  bur- 
den— though  thy  sin  hath  taken  hold  on  thee,  that  thou 
art  not  able  to  look  up,  depriving  thee  of  that  pnvilege 
which  the  most  high  God  bestowed  on  m.an  at  his  crea- 
tion— tura  not  a  deaf  ear  to  that  gracious  voice.  Be  not 
too  hasty  in  pronouncing  thyself  free  from  all  spiritual 
sickness,  when  it  may  be  that  the  deadly  contagion  is 
making  rapid  advancers  to  thine  heart.  Say  not,  "  there 
is  peace  and  safety,"  while  thou  art  encompassed  about 
with  an  host  of  enemies.  What  hast  thou  to  do  with 
peace,  so  long  as  the  sorceries  of  sin  prevail  against  thee, 
anil  her  witchcrafts  are  so  many  ? 

How  dear  to  human  nature  is  the  breath  of  life  !    how 


BETHESDA.  405 

Strongly  has  the  Author  of  our  being  attached  us  to  ex- 
istence, though  accompanied  with  every  circumstance 
of  pain  and  misery  !  O  Savior,  if  that  Hfe  which  must  ere 
long  be  succeeded  by  death  is  thus  precious  to  us,  how 
precious,  how  inestimable  is  that  life  which  thou  hast 
purchased  for  us,  the  inheritance  of  eternal  glory  in  thine 
heavenly  kingdom  !  No  grief,  no  pain  approaches  to  af- 
fect those  unsullied  joys  which  are  to  be  found  in  thy 
presence.  We  embrace,  O  Lord,  we  hold  fast  the  bless- 
ed hope  of  everlasting  life,  given  unto  us  by  thee  ! 

But  who  shall  presume  to  dictate  to  the  Almighty  the 
precise  time  or  manner  in  which  he  shaJl  work  our  deliv- 
erance 1  The  sufferer  before  us  is  not  healed  by  those 
miraculous  waters  to  which  alone  he  looked  for  his  re- 
covery. Relief  and  salvation  are  afforded  him  in  another 
and  still  brighter  form.  vShall  we  despair  of  attaining  those 
lieavenly  gifts  after  which  we  are  permitted  to  aspire  ? 
Shall  we  be  petulantly  impatient,  or  as  petulantly  des- 
pairing '?  Know  we  not  that  tribulation  worketh  patience, 
and  patience  experience — and  experience  hope — and 
that  hope  maketh  not  ashamed  1  Though  the  blessing 
be  for  a  while  delayed — though  spiritual  comfort  may 
not  be  afforded  at  the  moment  when  our  solicitude  would 
expect  it,  yet  shall  it  surely  come,  and  shall  not  taiTy  be- 
yond its  appointed  time.  What  God  hath  promised,  he 
is  both  able  and  willing  to  perform.  If  our  earlier  days 
have  been  visited  with  every  species  of  distress — if  our 
souls  and  bodies  have  been  brought  low  unto  the  earth, 
yet  the  clouds  which  overcast  the  meridian  of  our  life 
may  disappear  towards  its  evening,  and  our  sim  may  go 
down  in  brightness  and  serenity. 

O  Savior,  thou  art  no  longer  conversant  in  person  with 
mankind.  Thou  art  returned  to  the  participation  of  that 
ineffable  glory  wherewith  thou  wert  invested  "  before 
the  mountains  were  brought  forth,  or  ever  the  earth  and 
the  world  were  made."     But  art  thou  not  still  present,  in 


40G  hall's  scripture  history. 

thy  holy  word,  in  tliy  Divine  ordinances?  There  dost 
tliou  yet  call  to  us — there  dost  thou  address  thy  suffering 
children  with  the  same  mercy  and  the  same  jiower  that 
called  the  languishing  sufl'erer  at  Bethesda  from  soitow  to 
joy,  from  weakness  to  strength,  from  anguish  of  heart  to 
transports  of  gi'atitude.  Wherefore  then  shouldst  thou 
be  afraid,  O  my  soul,  in  the  day  of  adversity  1  Why  do 
fearfulness  and  trembling  come  upon  thee,  and  an  horri- 
ble dread  overwhelm  thee  1  wait  thou  only  upon  God — 
be  strong,  and  he  shall  comfort  thine  heart — put  thou  thy 
trust  in  the  Lord. 


S3.— THE    POWER   OF   CONSCIENCE. 

The  life  of  Christ  Avas  a  life  of  incessant  labor.  In  the 
day  he  was  in  the  temple — in  the  night  in  the  mount  of 
Olives.  His  retirement  was  for  prayer — his  public  ap- 
pearance was  for  preaching.  The  multitude  were  yet 
divided  in  their  sentiments.  While  some  believed  his 
word,  there  were  too  many  on  whom  no  impression  had 
been  made  by  the  repeated  demonstrations  of  his  omni- 
potence. Among  the  scribes  and  Pharisees  in  particular 
all  was  malice  and  hostility.  Messengers  were  sent  and 
suborned  to  aj^prehend  him  ;  nevertheless  he  retunied  to 
the  temple.  Lord,  thine  example  teaches  us  no  less  than 
thy  precepts.  It  is  for  indolence  or  fear  to  be  discoura- 
ged by  opjiosition.  When  God  calleth,  we  must  over- 
look and  contemn  the  displeasure  of  men.  After  a  scanty 
liarvest  we  must  sow — in  spite  of  the  fury  of  our  adver- 
saries, we  must  yet  **  speak  in  God's  behalf" 

The  auditors  of  Christ,  though  with  different  purposes 
of  heart,  are  numerous  and  attentive.  The  people  come 
to  learn — ihc  rulers  to  cavil  and  murmur  at  his  doctrine. 


THE    POWER    OF    CONSCIENCE.  407 

Meanwhile  a  company  of  Pharisees  jiresent  themselves 
before  him,  under  a  pretence  of  zeal  for  justice  and  scru- 
pulous regard  to  virtue.  As  lovers  of  chastity  and  haters 
of  licentiousness,  they  bring  to  him  a  woman  convicted 
of  the  heinous  crime  of  adultery.  They  have  recourse 
to  our  Savior's  authority,  which  on  other  occasions  they 
impiously  disregarded,  that  from  his  exercise  of  it  they 
might  find  a  new  subject  of  accusation. 

The  wretched  criminal,  standing  in  the  midst  of  an  in- 
dignant multitude,  awaits  her  sentence  with  all  the  hor- 
ror and  consternation  of  guilt.  Her  zealous  accusers  be- 
gin their  plausible  charge.  Their  own  complicated  wick- 
edness they  imagine  undetected — that  they  keep  secret 
among  themselves,  every  man  in  the  deep  of  his  heart. 
Little  did  they  think  that  the  moment  was  near  ap- 
proaching when  their  own  conscience  should  rebuke 
them  more  than  a  thousand  witnesses,  and  the  voice  of 
God  more  than  a  thousand  consciences. 

They  who  complain  of  the  offence  do  not  hesitate  to 
point  out  the  punishment.  "  Moses  in  the  law  command- 
ed that  such  should  be  stoned — but  what  sayest  thou  ]*' 
If  they  are  not  sure  that  Moses  said  so,  why  do  they  af- 
firm it  1  If  otherwise,  why  do  they  question  what  they 
are  aware  is  decided  1  It  was  their  accustomed  boast, 
"  We  are  Moses'  disci23les — we  know  that  God  spake  by 
Moses."  Gladly  would  they  lead  our  Savior  to  contra- 
dict their  great  legislator,  that  they  might  take  advantage 
of  his  contradiction.  It  is  the  common  endeavor  of  the 
enemies  of  truth  to  set  the  law  in  opposition  to  the  Gos- 
pel ;  but  they  shall  never  be  able  to  effect  it  by  all  the 
sophistry  of  malice.  God  hath  joined  them  together — 
man  cannot  put  them  asunder.  They  are  firm  and  indis- 
soluble associates  :  each  speaks  for  the  other,  each  estab- 
lishes the  other.  Moses  was  faithful  as  a  servant — Christ, 
as  a  Son.  The  law  was  our  schoolmaster  to  brimr  us 
to  Christ — He  came  not  to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil.    While 


403  HALL  S    SCUIPrURL     HISTORV. 

by  biin,  aiul  him  only,  all  that  believe  are  justified,  the 
law  is  nevertheless  holy,  and  the  commandment  holy, 
and  just,  and  good.  Even  now  must  we  adhere  to  the 
vioral  law,  if  we  would  have  our  part  in  the  bringing  in 
of  a  better  hope.  So  shall  Moses  lead  us  to  Christ,  and 
Christ  to  glory. 

Had  the  Pharisees  proposed  this  question  with  an  hon- 
est heart,  in  sincere  desire  of  information,  the  reference 
had  been  wise  and  laudable.  Whither  should  we  have 
recourse,  O  Lord,  but  to  thee,  the  Word  of  thy  Father, 
the  teacher  of  thy  Church  ?  But  here  it  was  far  otherwise. 
They  came  not  to  learn,  but  to  tempt — and  to  tempt, 
that  they  might  accuse.  They  had  remarked  our  Savior's 
readiness  to  annul  those  false  comments  which  their  pre- 
sumptuous scribes  had  added  to  the  law.  They  had  seen 
his  gracious  and  merciful  disposition  leading  him  on  some 
occasions  to  acts  which  their  scrupulous  bigotry  deemed 
contrary  to  the  law.  He  had  touched  a  leper — had  healed 
on  the  Sabbath — had  selected  for  his  discij^les  two  ac- 
knowledged publicans.  How  shall  he  escape  this  artful 
stratagem  1  He  must  either  second  the  decree  of  Moses, 
by  sentencing  this  woman  to  death — or  contradict  that 
decree  by  dismissing  her  unpunished.  If  he  command 
her  to  be  stoned,  he  loses  the  honor  of  his  mercy — if  he 
pronounce  her  acquittal,  he  loses  the  honor  of  his  jus- 
tice. Take  away  either  of  these,  and  he  can  be  no  vSavior. 

O  the  folly  of  vain  men,  seeking  to  beguile  wisdom  it- 
self! At  first,  silence  and  neglect  shall  confound  them — 
at  last,  the  word  shall  be  spoken  to  their  conviction.  Our 
Savior  stoops  down,  and,  without  vouchsafing  an  answer 
to  these  malicious  and  busy  cavillers,  with  his  finger  ho 
traces  characters  on  the  ground,  as  though  he  heard  them 
not.  While  by  this  cautious  j^rocedure  he  avoided  the 
snares  which  they  hatl  laid  for  him,  he  excited  the  more 
curiosity  on  their  part,  and  led  their  eagerness  into  justly- 
deserved  shnme. 


THE    POWER    OF    CONSCIENCE.  409 

The  more  reluctance  they  observed  in  Christ,  the  more 
do  they  press  him  with  wearisome  importunity.  At  length 
compelled  to  speak,  he  raises  himself;  and  since  their 
vehemence  will  not  bear  denial,  gives  them  such  an  an- 
swer as  they  little  expected  to  hear.  ^^He  that  is  without 
sin  among  you,  let  him  first  cast  a  stone  at  her.  There  is 
not  one  of  you  but  is  as  guilty  as  she  whom  you  accuse. 
But  your  crimes  are  veiled  in  secrecy,  hers  are  brought 
forth  to  light.  You  have  more  need  to  make  your  own 
peace  by  repentance,  than  to  urge  severity  against  an- 
other. If  death  be  her  due,  let  not  the  sentence  be  execut- 
ed by  those  unhallowed  hands — your  hearts  know  that 
ye  are  worthy,  not  to  inflict,  but  to  suffer  punishment." 

What  do  we  hear  1  These  scribes  and  Pharisees  were 
noted  for  their  extraordinary  and  unexampled  holiness — 
their  demeanor  was  not  merely  inoffensive,  but  sanctifi- 
ed and  austere — yet  that  all-seeing  eye  hath  discovered 
latent  wickedness  in  these  specious  professors.  What  se- 
cret is  there,  which  our  God  searcheth  not  out  1  Though 
we  retire  into  the  deepest  concealment,  his  power  follows 
us — he  observes  all  our  actions — no  bolts,  no  darkness 
can  bring  security — how  then  can  we  dare  to  offend  ] 
Those  crimes  which  from  length  of  time  are  forgotten 
even  by  ourselves,  are  held  in  remembrance  before 
God.  Fearfully  shall  he  recall  them  to  our  memory,  and 
shall  make  us  possess  the  sins  of  our  youth.  "  These 
things  hast  thou  done,  and  I  kept  silence ;  thou  thought- 
est  that  I  was  altogether  such  an  one  as  thyself;  but  I 
will  reprove  thee,  and  set  them  in  order  before  thine 
eyes." 

O  wonderful  transition  from  arrogance  to  remorse ! 
When  the  Pharisees  hear  the  voice  of  Christ,  hypocrisy 
itself  is  thunderstruck,  and  malice  can  maintain  the 
contest  no  longer.  These  zealous  asserters  of  the  law, 
ashamed,  self-convicted,  **  went  out  one  by  one,  begin- 
ning at  the  eldest  e^en  unto   the  last."     A  man  can  no 

Script.  Hist.  18 


410  hall's     SCRIi'TUnE     HISTORY. 

more  resist  the  stings  of  conscience  than  he  can  resist 
the  power  of  God.  He  who  placed  it  in  our  bosom,  di* 
rects  it  to  accuse — there  is  no  denial  when  we  are  thus 
declared  guilty.  If  our  heart  condemn  us,  in  vain  are 
we  acquitted  by  the  world.  No  wicked  man  needs  to 
seek  out  of  himself  for  a  judge,  an  accuser,  a  witness,  a 
tormentor. 

No  sooner  do  these  ii\'})Ocntes  hear  of  their  offences 
from  the  mouth  of  Christ,  than  they  are  gone — had  they 
been  struck  with  true  remorse,  they  would  rather  have 
fallen  upon  their  knees  and  said,  "  Lord,  wo  know  and 
feel  that  thou  canst  trace  our  most  secret  sins — this  ar- 
gues thy  divine  omniscience.  Thou  art  able  to  discern 
our  faults,  art  able  also  to  remit  them  on  our  repentance. 
O  pardon  the  iniquity  of  thy  sei'vants — thou  hast  accused, 
do  thou  also  absolve  !"  But  an  obdurate  man  can  neither 
bear  the  mention  of  his  sins,  nor  the  presence  of  his 
Savior.  The  Pharisees  turn  their  backs  on  the  heaven- 
ly monitor  and  flee.  Thou  blind  Pharisee,  couldst  thou 
as  easily  flee  from  the  wrath,  and  from  the  vengeance  of 
God,  there  would  be  at  least  some  shadow  of  excvise  for 
thy  departure — but  while  in  him  we  live,  and  move,  and 
have  our  being,  what  doest  thou  ?  whither  goest  thou  1 
Thou  mayest  banish  thyself  from  his  mercy — from  his 
judgments  thou  canst  not  escape. 

Jesus  is  left  alone.  His  perfect  and  spotless  inno- 
cence, which  knew  no  sin,  shrinks  not  from  the  test  pro- 
posed by  himself  The  word  was  addressed  to  the 
scribes  and  Pharisees ;  they  dei^arted  in  guilty  conster- 
nation from  the  temple.  There  yet  stood  the  wretched 
adulteress.  She  might  have  retired,  like  her  accusers — 
none  constrained  her  stay — but  that  which  sent  them 
away,  riveted  her  to  the  spot,  Conscieiice^  She  knew  that 
her  transgression  was  })ublit:ly  denounced,  and  could 
not  be  denied  even  by  herself — fastened  there  by  her 
own  bleeding  heart,  she  awaits  her  doom  in  trembling. 


THE    POWER    OF    CONSCIENCE.  411 

No  sooner  had  our  Savior  put  to  silence  the  vaunts  of 
his  hypocritical  opponents,  than  he  returned  to  his  first 
gesture  of  seeming  inadvertency — "  again  he  stooped 
down  and  wrote  on  the  ground."  He  now  lifts  up  him- 
self, and  as  though  he  had  not  been  aware  of  the  conse- 
quences of  his  own  decision,  says,  "Woman,  where  are 
thine  accusers  ]     Hath  no  man  condemned  thee  ?" 

O  thou  that  art  heavy  laden  with  the  insupportable 
burden  of  thy  sins,  whither  shouldst  thou  betake  thyself 
but  to  the  presence  of  thy  Savior]  Couldst  thou  choose 
thine  own  refuge,  to  whom  wouldst  thou  flee  ?  Happy 
are  they,  who,  when  convinced  of  their  miserable  de- 
pravity, can  at  once  betake  themselves  to  that  Judge, 
who  is  their  Advocate,  their  Redeemer,  their  Surety, 
their  Ransom,  their  Peace. 

In  a  state  of  fluctuation  between  hope  and  fear,  the 
criminal  expected  her  decision — hope,  in  that  her  accu- 
sers were  gone ;  fear,  in  that  she  knew  what  she  had  de- 
serv^ed  at  the  hands  of  justice.  Had  sentence  passed 
legally.  He,  who  would  not  intrude  on  the  office  of 
others,  would  not  have  opposed  others  in  the  execution 
of  those  righteous  decrees  once  delivered  by  himself. 
Now,  under  these  unexpected  circumstances,  his  heaven- 
ly mercy  hath  its  perfect  work.  Not  that  he  would  pal- 
liate the  enormity  of  guilt — not  that  he  would  pass  over 
this  flagi'ant  offence  by  a  too  gentle  reprimand.  But  ho 
who  once  said,  "  Who  made  me  a  ruler  and  divider 
among  you  V  said  also,  "  Neither  do  I  condemn  thee." 
He  came,  not  to  be  an  arbiter  of  civil  causes,  nor  a  judge 
of  the  criminal,  but  a  Redeemer  of  mankind — he  came, 
not  to  destroy  the  body,  but  to  save  the  soul.  Such  was 
his  care  towards  this  miserable  offender — *•  Go,  and  sin 
no  more."  How  can  we  sufficiently  magnify  thy  mercy, 
O  blessed  Lord,  who,  far  from  taking  pleasure  in  the 
death  of  a  sinner,  so  camest  to  save,  that  thou  urgest  our 
unkindness  and  ingratitude  to  thee  in  being  miserable — • 
*'  Why  will  ye  die,  O  house  of  Israel  ?" 


412  hall's  scripture  history. 

But,  O  tliou  Son  of  God,  though  thou  wouldst  not  ihtn 
be  a  Judge,  thou  wilt  hereafter  be.  In  thy  first  coming 
thou  wouldst  not  enter  into  judgment  with  thy  sen-ants 
— at  thy  second  advent  a  world  shall  stand  before  thy 
tribunal.  Thou  shalt  come  in  the  glory  of  thy  Father, 
with  thy  holy  angels,  and  shalt  judge  every  man  accord- 
ing to  his  works.  That  we  may  not  hear  thy  terrible 
voice  spectking  unto  us,  "  Depart,  ye  cursed,"  let  us  now 
hear  thy  voice  of  mercy,  "  Go^  and  sin  no  more.'* 


84.— THE  THANKFUL  PENITENT. 

The  Pharisees  were  universally  known  to  be  the  proud 
enemies  of  Christ — men  intoxicated  with  their  own 
fancied  superiority — haughty  and  contemj)tuous  toward 
others — severe  in  their  manners,  but  hj^iocrites  in  heart 
— strict  sectaiies,  but  persons  destitute  of  true  and  vital 
religion.  Yet  even  among  these  some  were  found  ex- 
empt from  the  general  censure  of "  despising  the  coun- 
sel of  God  against  themselves."  They  could  not  only 
boast  of  Nicodemus  and  Gamaliel  as  their  own,  but  could 
furnish  another  of  their  number,  who  was  not  so  far 
blinded  by  prejudice  as  to  be  insensible  of  the  honor 
and  hajipiness  derived  from  the  presence  of  our  Lord. 

The  Savior  of  mankind  knew  no  mean  and  partial  dis- 
tinctions. Whether  it  were  Pharisee  or  Publican  who 
spake,  his  heart  refused  not  their  proffers  of  friendship 
and  hospitality.  Thus  did  his  wisdom  and  mercy  induce 
him  to  be  all  things  to  all  men,  that  he  might  save  the 
more.  And  shall  we  not,  after  thine  example,  O  blessed 
Jesua,  endeavor  by  all  honest  means  to  win  the  souls  of 
mankind  to  thee  1     Shall  we  not  strive  to  recover  thoso 


THE    THANKFUL    PENITENT.  413 

from  the  snare  of  tlie  enemy  wlio  are  taken  captive  by 
him  at  his  will  1  How  vain  is  that  pride,  or  that  preju- 
dice, which  leads  us  to  stand  aloof  and  sacrifice  our 
charity,  that  we  may  avoid  contamination  !  If  we  can, 
without  endangering  our  own  souls,  impress  on  the 
hearts  of  sinners  a  sense  of  their  duty,  by  exhibiting  re- 
ligion in  its  most  amiable  form,  then  do  we  walk  in  the 
steps  of  him  who  scrupled  not  to  sit  down  to  meat  in 
the  Pharisee's  house. 

While  th-e  Savior  of  tlio  world  was  imparting  his  di- 
■\'ine  instructions,  and  suiting  them  to  the  capacity  of  his 
heai"ers,  behold,  **  a  woman  that  was  a  sima43r  "  approach- 
ed that  threshol-d,  where,  but  for  the  presence  of  Jesus, 
she  hud  little  to  expect  sav^e  the  extreme  of  rigorous  jus- 
tice. They  who  valued  themselves  on  their  own  righ- 
teousness could  not  but  recoil  from  acknowledged  guilt. 
What  a  sight  was  a  notorious  sinner  to  one  who  looked 
on  the  best  of  men  as  sinners,  if  not  of  the  same  persua- 
sion as  himself!  Yet  n-either  the  known  severity  of  the 
man,  nor  the  probability  of  an  unkind  recej)tion,  can  pre- 
vent her  from  seeking  after  the  God  of  comfort.  No  dis- 
advantage can  deter  tlie  penitent  soul  from  a  speedy  re- 
course to  Christ.  Were  Jesus  indeed  amidst  his  ^lis- 
ciples,  were  he  among  a  multitude  of  the  people,  were" 
he  in  the  house  of  son^e  hinmble  Publican,  she  migfht 
have  approached  with  less  charge  of  presumption,  with 
less  danger  of  repulse — bait  every  moment  is  precious  to 
those  who  would  be  reconciled  to  God.  Dif^ress  must 
not  be  too  scrupulous — faith  must  not  indulge  ill-gi*ound- 
ed  fears.  We  are  not  worthy  of  the  comfort  of  thy  pre- 
sence, O  God  of  our  salvation,  if  wheresoever  we  know 
thou  art,  we  do  not  hasten  thither  to  implore  thy  mercy. 

The  place  was  not  more  unpropltious  than  the  time. 
The  house  of  a  Pharisee  might  seem  as  ill  suited  for  a 
sinner  as  the  tears  of  a  pciiltent  to  the  hour  of  festi- 
vity.   **  To  every  thing  there  is  a  season" — what  could 


41,4  hall's  scripture  iiistorv, 

be  more  discordant  than  sorrow  in  the  mid.-it  of  joy  1 
Ahi-s,  these  trifling  considerations  have  no  weight  with 
an  anxious  soul  which  would  make  its  peace  with  God. 
The  heart  which  has  felt  the  stings  of  remorse,  and  is 
earnestly  desirous  of  pardon,  can  scarce  delay  the  ex- 
pression of  what  it  feels,  and  cannot  be  confined  to  com- 
mon terms  and  circumstances. 

Whence  then  was  this  zeal,  this  fervency  1  Doubtless 
she  had  heard  from  the  mouth  of  Christ,  in  his  divine  ad- 
monitions to  the  people,  many  gracious  invitations  to  the 
troubled  and  afflicted  soul.  She  had  seen  him  amidst 
Publicans,  amidst  enemies  ;  she  had  noted  many  acts  of 
his  transcendent  mercy.  Deep  contrition  is  in  her  heart 
— the  arrows  of  the  Almighty  are  fixed  there,  and  drink 
up  her  spirit.  Is  there  no  balm  in  Gilead  ?  Is  there  no 
physician  there  1  Who  is  this  that  cometh,  travelling  in 
the  greatness  of  his  strength  1  Thou,  Lord,  that  speak- 
est  in  righteousness,  mighty  to  save  !  She  comes  in  and 
finds  the  Redeemer  whom  she  sought— she  comes,  with 
the  oblation  of  a  penitent  and  grateful  heart.  The  irre- 
gularity of  her  life  had  not  erased  from  her  mind  those 
precepts  which  she  had  too  frequently,  too  notoriously, 
transgressed.  She  could  not  but  remember  that  none 
could  appear  before  the  Lord  empty.  To  testify  her  re- 
verential devotion,  she  biings  an  alabaster-box,  pure  and 
costly,  fit  for  the  reception  of  those  precious  odors, 
which  she  had  prepared  for  the  Savior  of  mankind. 

The  soul  which  is  truly  sensible  of  its  sin,  can  think 
nothing  too  dear,  too  valuable,  as  an  atonement,  to 
make  reconciliation  with  the  offended  JMajcsty  of  heaven. 
"  Wherewith  shall  I  come  before  the  Lord,  and  bow  my- 
self before  the  most  high  God  1"  MIcah,  6  :  6,  7.  The 
repentant  sinner  begins  with  the  tender  of  burnt-offer- 
ings and  calves  of  a  year  old — thence  he  ascends  to  hec- 
atombs— thousands  of  rams — ten  thousand  rivers  of  oil. 
Nay,  ho  would  bo  content,  like  the  heroic  patriarch,  to 


THE    THANKFUL    PENITEKT.  415 

give  his  very  first-born,  the  object  of  his  fondest,  tcnder- 
est  affection,  to  expiate  the  sin  of  his  souL  Any  thing, 
every  thing  is  too  small  a  price  for  peace.  O  Savior,  we 
bring  thee  the  tribute  of  our  humble  obedience — all  that 
we  have,  or  are,  we  consecrate  entirely  to  thee.  What 
earthly  retribution  can  compensate  thine  inestimable  mer- 
cies ?  If  we  have  devoted  a  portion  of  our  days  to  sin,  to 
vanity  and  folly,  lo,  we  now  turn  unto  thee  with  contrite 
hearts,  and  earnestly  imjilore  forgiveness.  Teach  us 
henceforth  to  employ  all  our  time,  all  our  abilities,  to 
thy  glory — weak  and  inadequate,  alas,  are  our  best  en- 
deavors to  testify  our  sense  of  thy  mercy  and  our  own 
unworthiness  ! 

The  ponitent,  whose  courage  had  induced  her  to  vcn- 
turc  into  the  presence  of  the  Savior,  dares  not  yet  behold 
the  beams  of  his  awful  countenance.  She  casts  her  de- 
jected eyes  to  the  earth,  and  will  not  so  much  as  raise 
them  to  Him  from  whom  she  seeks  commiseration.  An 
humble  diffidence  is  both  a  token  and  an  efftct  of  grace, 
"  Were  they  ashamed  when  they  had  committed  abom- 
ination ]  yea,  they  were  not  ashamed,  neither  could 
they  blush — therefore  they  shall  fall."  O  God,  could  we 
but  think  how  wretched  we  are  by  nature,  how  vile 
through  our  actual  transgressions  :  how  glorious,  how  sa- 
cred, how  powerful  thou  art,  before  whom  the  brightest 
angels  veil  their  faces,  with  what  sentiments  of  fear  and 
veneration  should  we  approach  thy  majesty  !  What  is 
i/ian,  who  is  a  worm  ?  and  the  son  of  man,  wblcli  is  a 
"worm  ? 

Behokl  here  not  only  shame  but  sorrow — the  heart 
which  had  been  devoted  to  sin  now  melts  witli  giief  and 
contrition.  Whence  was  this  change  but  from  the  secret 
working  of  the  Spirit  of  God  ?  He  smote  the  rock,  and 
the  waters  gushed  out.  The  feet  of  the  Savior  are  be- 
dewed with  penitential  tears.  "  Blessed  are  they  that 
DQOuro — for  iho.y  shall  be  comforted."     They  have  sown 


416  hall's  scripture  history. 

in  tears-;- they  shall  reap  in  joy  ;  their  just  affliction  and 
abhonence  of  those  sins  which  they  have  renounced,  shall 
be  graciously  rewarded  with  a  plenteous  increase  of  hap- 
piness and  glory. 

Meanwhile  not  a  word  escapes  from  the  mourner's 
lips.  In  the  eloquence  of  silent  grief  she  pours  forth  her 
soul  before  her  God — every  look,  every  gesture  is  vocal. 
The  religion  of  the  hypocrite  is  in  his  tongue,  not  in  his 
heart — the  true  christian  had  rather  give  proof  of  his 
faith  by  his  actions  than  his  words  ;  as  well  knowing 
that  not  he  who  commendeth  himself  is  approved,  but 
whom  the  Lord  commendeth. 

The  Pharisee  saw  all  this  ;  but  with  an  evil  eye — in- 
fidelity, instead  of  compassion,  is  excited  in  his  soul.  **  If 
this  man  were  a  prophet  he  would  have  known  what 
manner  of  woman  this  is  that  toucheth  him — for  she  is  a 
sinner."  O  Pharisee,  how  dost  thou  undervalue  not  only 
thy  guest,  but  his  weeping  suppliant  1  A  prophet  1  Yea, 
I  say  unto  thee,  and  much  more  than  a  prophet.  His  om- 
niscience not  only  is  acquainted  with  the  son'ows  of  a 
contrite  heart,  but  even  now  reads  what  is  passing  in 
thine  ;  while  the  humble  penitent,  no  longer  a  sinner,  but 
a  convert,  hath  quenched  the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked 
one  by  the  tears  of  unfeigned  remorse. 

But  why  was  it  inconsistent  with  the  knowledge  or 
the  holiness  of  the  prophet  to  accept  these  demonstra- 
tions of  grief  and  shame  1  How  was  the  purity,  the  per- 
fection of  thy  glorious  guest  impeached  by  this  exercise 
of  his  mercy?  "Behold"  in  him  "the  Lamb  of  God,  who 
taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world."  How  unjust,  then, 
how  ill-grounded  is  thy  censure  ! 

The  Pharisee  spake — but  it  was  within  himself.  "Jesus 
answered."  What  we  ihiyik  we  speak  to  our  hearts,  and 
we  speak  to  One  who  hears  us.  The  busy  intruder 
may  present  itself,  and  be  rejected  with  scorn — so  far  we 
are  guiltless — but  if  we  give  it  welcome,  though  we  of- 


THE    THANKFUL    PENITENT.  417 

fend  neither  in  word  nor  action,  the  blasphemy  of  the 
heart,  the  murder  of  the  heart,  the  adultery  of  the  heart, 
shall  be  answered  by  the  just  indignation  of  God.  Here  the 
Savior  of  the  world  saw  nothing  but  ignorance  and  sim- 
plicity, and  he  conveys  reproof  by  gentle  insinuation.  By 
a  short  but  interesting  parable  he  opens  the  eyes  of  this 
blind  Pharisee.  Out  of  his  own  mouth  he  judges  him;  and 
proves  to  his  conviction,  that  where  there  is  greater  mercy 
in  the  forgiveness,  the  love  and  gi-atitude  of  those  who  are 
pardoned  are  excited  in  a  proportionate  degree  of  ardor. 

Then  turning  his  face  to  the  poor  penitent,  (as  one 
who  regarded  a  true  humiliation  for  sin  more  than  the 
highest  vaunts  of  affected  holiness,)  he  bestows  on  her 
that  solemn  absolution  which  she  had  asked  with  tears, 
but  which  her  voice  had  not  dared  to  implore.  "  Her 
sins,  which  are  many,  are  forgiven."  How  did  this 
gracious  voice  impart  new  life,  new  animation  to  her 
drooping  spirit  !  Not  more  powerful  was  that  word, 
when  in  the  first  confusion  of  universal  nature  G  od  spake, 
^'  Let  the  earth  bring  forth  grass  " — when  in  a  moment 
the  face  of  creation  assumed  its  new  luxuriance — burst- 
ing forth  into  leaves,  and  buds,  and  blossoms,  and  fruits. 
When  the  ear  heard  thee,  O  Savior,  then  it  blessed  thee, 
and  when  the  eye  saw  thee  it  gave  witness  unto  thee. 
Her  former  tears  said,  *'  Who  shall  deliver  me  from  the 
body  of  this  death  ]"  Those  she  now  sheds  say,  ''  I 
thank  God,  through  Jesus  Christ  my  Lord." 

Seldom  do  we  find  so  thorough  a  penitent — seldom  so 
gracious  a  dismission.  Now  does  the  Pharisee  envy  one 
whom  he  lately  scorned.  What  can  be  wished  by  any 
mortal,  but  remission,  safety,  faith,  peace !  All  here 
combine  to  make  a  contrite  soul  happy.  Remission  the 
ground  of  her  safety — faith  the  ground  of  her  peace. 
Salvation  the  consequence  of  her  pardon — and  t!ie  effect 
of  righteousness,  imputed  through  Christ,  **  qiiietnes* 
and  assurance  for  ever." 

IS* 


418  hall's  scripture  history. 


85.— MARTHA   AND   MARY. 

Our  Savior  was  in  his  progress  to  Jerusalem,  to  some 
holy  feast.  His  devotion  neglected  not  any  of  those 
august  solemnities  which  the  great  legislator  of  Israel 
had  enjoined.  In  his  way  (assured  of  a  grateful  wel- 
come) he  turns  aside  to  the  village  of  Bethany.  We 
have  already  seen  him  the  g-uest  of  a  contrite  publican 
and  of  a  rigid  Pharisee — we  now  bdhold  him  under  that 
roof  where  his  benignant  spirit  partook  of  the  delights 
of  holy  friendship.  There  dwelt  the  devout  sisters  of 
Lazarus,  and  their  brother  whom  Jesus  loved.  O  holy 
and  blessed  family,  how  should  we  envy  your  felicity 
were  we  not  even  now  partakers  of  your  high  privilege  ! 
When  we  extend  our  charity  and  hospitality  to  one  of 
the  least  of  our  brethren,  we  do  it  to  our  Savior — if  he 
is  an  hungered  we  feed  him — if  he  is  thirsty  we  give 
hira  drink.  Nay  more — when  our  faith  and  jiiety  hath 
its  perfect  work,  we  abide  in  him,  and  he  in  us.  "  If  a 
man  love  me,  he  will  keep  my  words — and  my  Father 
will  love  him,  and  we  will  come  unto  him,  and  make  our 
abode  with  him."  Be  it  unto  us,  O  Lord,  according  to 
thy  word — enter  in  and  abide  with  us,  not  for  a  limited 
time,  but  through  the  ages  of  eternity — satisfy  our  souls 
with  thy  presence — speak  that  gi'acious  word,  "  This  is 
my  rest  for  ever — here  will  I  dwell !" 

No  sooner  is  Jesus  within  the  friendly  mansion  of 
Lazarus  than  he  begins  to  impart  his  heavenly  instruc- 
tions. How  dear,  how  precious  was  every  word  that  fell 
from  those  sacred  lips  !  Every  moment  he  accounted  as 
lost,  wherein  he  promoted  not  the  salvation  of  mankind. 
"  My  meat  and  drink  is  to  do  the  will  of  Him  that  sent 
me,  and  to  finish  his  work."  How  should  they  who  ai'e 
ordained  to  be  ministers  of  the  word  of  life  follow  this 
illustrious  example  !     How  should  they  who  arc  appoint- 


MARTHA    AND    MARY.  419 

e<l  as  lights  in  the  christian  world,  dispense  without  in- 
termission the  beams  of  heavenly  truth — instant,  at  every 
season,  to  reprove,  rebuke,  exhort,  with  all  diligence 
and  care  I 

Domestic  avocations  occupy  one  of  the  sisters  of  La- 
zarus— the  other  remains  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  in  humble 
and  submissive  attention  to  his  heavenly  doctrines.  The 
one  was  desirous  to  express  her  thankfulness  for  the  pr(^- 
sence  of  so  blessed  a  guest,  by  more  than  common  solici- 
tude for  his  entertainment — the  other,  in  fixed  compo- 
sure, remains  riveted,  as  it  were,  to  the  ground,  unwil- 
ling to  lose  one  accent  of  that  voice  which  was  able  to 
make  her  wise  unto  salvation. 

At  length  the  anxiety  of  Martha  for  the  welcome  of 
her  Savior  leads  her  to  complain  to  him  of  the  neglect 
of  Mary.  In  terms  of  eager  expostulation  she  exclaims, 
'  Lord,  dost  thou  not  care  that  my  sister  hath  left  me  to 
serve  alone]"  She  knew  that  as  long  as  Jesus  preached, 
Maiy  was  fixed,  as  with  chains  of  adamant,  at  his  feet, 
unless  his  own  interference   dismissed  her. 

And  does  the  sister  of  Lazarus  then  presume  to  dic- 
tate to  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth  1  to  tax  him  with  in- 
attention and  neglect?  to  prescribe  to  his  infinite  wisdom, 
instead  of  receiving  directions  from  his  mouth  1  Alas,  how 
ready  is  our  weakness,  upon  the  slightest  cause  of  discon- 
tent, to  mumiur  against  a  good  and  gi'acious  God,  as  if 
he  neither  heard  our  voice  nor  beheld  our  sorrows  !  If 
v/e  gToan  on  the  bed  of  sickness,  tormented  with  pain, 
and  complaining  of  the  wearisome  nights  of  ang-uish,  how 
ready  are  we  to  exclaim,  "  Lord,  dost  thou  not  care  that 
we  suffer'?"  If  the  church  of  Christ  is  in  apparent  danger 
— if  our  adversaries  are  the  chief,  and  our  enemies  pros- 
per— if  they  roar  in  the  midst  of  the  congregation,  and 
set  up  their  banners  for  tokens,  immediately  we  ci-y  out, 
*•  Lord,  dost  thou  not  care  V  But  be  assured,  O  thou 
feeble  and  distrustful  soul,  that  the  more  thou  sulTcrest, 


420  hall's  scripture  history. 

the  more  thou  art  in  calamity,  so  much  the  more  thou 
art  loved  and  cared  for.  Never  is  God  more  truly  a 
Father  than  when  he  visits  thee  with  salutary  correction. 
Thou  knowest,  Lord,  the  works,  and  the  labor,  and  the 
patience  of  thy  servants — we  may  be  ignorant  of  thy 
counsels — we  may  not  see  the  hand  that  chastises  us — 
thou  canst  not  but  be  gracious. 

The  devout  Mary  could  not  hear  this  complaint  with- 
out a  degi'ee  of  sorrow  and  astonishment.  She  could  not 
but  think,  "If  I  have  offended,  why  was  I  not  admonish- 
ed less  publicly  ]  If  I  have  omitted  any  duty  of  practical 
religion  while  absorbed  in  these  heavenly  meditations, 
why  must  I  be  reproved  in  the  presence  of  my  Savior 
and  his  disciples  1  Lord,  dost  thou  not  care  that  I  am 
injuriously  censured  ]"  But  her  devout  spirit  was  too 
well  versed  in  the  faith  of  Christ  to  engage  in  angry  con- 
troversy. Not  a  word  escapes  her  lips.  In  silence  and 
meekness  she  hears  the  accusation  of  her  sister.  JMartha 
blames  her  for  her  piety — the  disciples  afterwards  blame 
her  for  her  bounty,  (John,  11  :  3) — still  does  she  possess 
her  soul  in  patience.  "  Grievous  words  stir  up  anger 
— therefore  leave  off  contention  before  it  be  meddled 
with."  She  is  slow  to  speak,  slow  to  ^vl'ath — committing 
her  vindication  to  Him  who  is  a  discerner  of  the  thoughts 
and  intents  of  the  heart. 

What  need  had  she  to  plead  for  herself  when  she  had 
such  an  Advocate  ]  Doubtless  Martha  had  entertained 
the  thought  that  her  sister  would  be  dismissed  with  re- 
buke, herself  with  thanks.  Now  her  expectations  fail  : 
and  though  she  be  not  directly  reproved,  she  hears  the 
just  tribute  of  preference  bestowed  on  Mary — '*  Thou 
art  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things — but  one 
thing  is  needful."  Our  Savior  was  not  insensible  of  the 
courtesy  which  sought  to  give  him  grateful  welcome — 
but  he  will  not  overlook  her  eiTors,  or  justify  her  weak 
misapprehensions.     No   obligation   should   so  far  weigh 


MARTHA    AND    MARY.  421 

with  us,  as  to  prevent  us  from  discovering  and  reprov- 
ing the  faults  of  those  we  love.  Those  are  base  and  ser- 
vile spirits  which  refuse  to  utter  a  word  in  due  season. 
"  Admonish  thy  friend — it  may  be  he  hath  not  done  it — 
or  if  he  hath,  that  he  do  it  not  again."  In  some  degree, 
our  care  must  necessarily  extend  to  earthly  things.  Reli- 
gion is  not  confined  to  duties  merely  speculative  ;  nor 
must  we  be  so  far  lost  in  contemplations,  however  sub- 
lime, as  to  forget  those  concerns  which  belong  to  this 
our  state  of  warfare,  till  our  change  come.  He  that  pro- 
vides not  for  his  own,  and  specially  for  those  of  his  own 
household,  hath  denied  the  faith,  and  is  worse  than  an  in- 
fidel. But  our  care  must  be  free  from  distraction,  free 
from  distrust — from  distraction,  that  it  interfere  not  with 
the  due  exercise  of  piety  and  charity — from  distrust,  that 
while  we  use  our  best  endeavors,  we  may  still  rely  up- 
on the  providence  of  God. 

How  different  from  this  care  is  that  of  the  worldling  ! 
God  is  not  in  all  his  thoughts — Christ  dwelling  not  in  his 
heart  by  faith.  One  man  finds  perplexity  and  trouble  in 
his  estates — another  labors  to  aggrandize  his  family — an- 
other is  deprived  of  present  happiness  by  fears  of  a  re- 
verse, revolving  in  his  anxious  mind  the  precarious  con- 
dition of  all  things,  and  opposing  his  fears  to  his  hopes — 
another  studies  how  to  escaj^e  (perhaps  how  to  retaliate) 
the  machinations  of  his  enemies.  O  ye  children  of  men, 
why  are  ye  thus  careful  and  troubled  about  many  things  ] 
why  do  ye  impose  on  yourselves  these  unnecessary  bur- 
dens, so  grievous  to  be  borne  ?  why  do  ye  groan  under 
a  weight,  from  which  the  kind  Providence  of  God  hath 
offered  to  relieve  you  1  Hath  not  he  commanded  you  to 
cast  all  your  cares  upon  him,  promising  that  he  will  make 
you  the  objects  of  his  care  1  Why  are  ye  not  as  ready 
to  depend  on  your  heavenly  Father,  as  he  is  to  exert  his 
power  and  mercy  in  your  hehalf  1 

While  Martha  is  gently  reproved  for  her  solicitude,  her 


422  hall's  scripture  history. 

eister  is  commended  for  her  devotion.  "  One  iliing  is 
needful ;  and  Maiy  hatli  chosen  that  good  part  which 
shall  not  be  taken  away  from  her."  One  thing  is  needful 
— not  as  superseding  the  necessity  of  every  thing  else — 
but  as  asserting  its  just  claim  to  pre-eminence.  Earthly 
duties  must  not  set  aside  those  of  a  spiritual  nature.  If 
without  attention  to  the  former  we  cannot  live  tempo- 
rally, without  regard  to  the  latter  we  cannot  live  eter- 
nally. Both  are  necessary  in  their  degree — hut  the  last 
is  most  highly  momentous.  There  is  no  opposition  be- 
tween these,  but  a  just  subordination.  The  body  and 
soul  should  be  friends,  not  rivals  :  the  christian  should  re- 
member that  he  is  a  man — the  man,  that  he  is  a  christian. 

O  blind  and  senseless  vanity,  which,  neglecting  that 
one  thing  necessary,  affects  so  many  things  superfluous — 
which  considers  nothing  as  needless  but  that  which  is 
indeed  of  the  utmost  im2:)ortance — which  loses  an  ines- 
timable treasure  it  knows  not  how  to  value,  while  it 
cares  unduly  for  the  fleeting  and  unreal  pageantry  of  a 
transitory  world ! 

The  freedom  of  our  will  remains  inviolate,  though  the 
grace  of  God  alone  bringeth  salvation.  "  Mary  hath  cho- 
,s 671  the  good  part  " — there  is  no  force,  no  compulsion — 
all  is  voluntary  choice.  Good  and  evil  are  set  before  us 
— we  are  in  possession  of  perfect  freedom,  through  the 
mercy  of  him  who  hath  set  us  free.  We  are  called  to 
christian  liberty  ;  happy  are  we,  if  we  can  improve  it  to 
the  benefit  of  our  souls  ! 

The  stability  and  perpetuity  of  good  adds  much  to  its 
value.  What  Mary  chose  shall  not  be  taken  away  from 
lier.  The  act  of  her  hearing  was  transient,  the  fruit  was 
permanent.  What  she  now  receives  into  her  ear,  is 
gi'afted  inwardly  on  her  heart,  and  shall  remain  there 
for  ever. 

What  couldst  thou  hear,  O  Mary,  from  those  sacred 
lips  which  we  hear  not  still  ?    That  hoavenly  doctrine  is 


THE    BLIND    BEGGAR    CURED.  423 

ever  the  same ;  not  more  subject  to  change  than  the 
Author  of  it.  Its  benefit  and  virtue  are  as  inseparable 
from  our  souls  as  the  souls  of  the  faithful  from  God. 
The  grass  withereth,  the  flower  fadeth,  but  the  word  of 
the  Lord  endureth  for  ever :  and  this  is  that  word  which 
by  the  Gospel  is  preached  unto  us.  In  the  tempest  of 
affliction,  in  the  night  of  sorrow,  it  shall  adhere  stead- 
fastly to  us  ;  and  till  death,  in  death,  after  death,  shall 
make  us  happy. 


86.— THE    BLIND    BEGGAR   CURED. 

"  Jesus  passing  by,  saw  a  man  which  was  blind  from 
his  birth."  The  case  of  such  a  sufferer  required  not 
merely  art  but  power — a  power  no  less  than  infinite,  no 
less  than  divine.  Nature  presuj^poses  matter,  though 
without  form — art  looks  for  matter  formed  to  our  hands. 
God  regards  not  either — his  omnipotent  word  alone  can 
create — he  calleth  those  things  which  be  not,  as  though 
they  were.  Great  is  the  Lord,  and  great  is  his  power, 
yea,  and  his  wisdom  is  infinite.  Such  as  this  object  of 
compassion  appeared  to  our  Savior,  such  are  we  with 
rCvSpect  to  all  spiritual  things.  We  want  not  only  sight, 
but  eyes — it  is  his  grace  and  mercy  which  makes  us 
capable  of  receiving  illumination. 

The  blind  man  sat  begging — he  must  be  indebted  for 
relief  to  the  charitable  eyes  of  others.  The  poor,  the 
sick,  the  desolate  are  cast  upon  our  mercy.  Happy  are 
we,  if  we  can  supply  the  place  of  limbs  and  senses  to 
the  needy,  if  we  can  be  ministers  of  God  to  them  for 
good.  When  the  hour  of  adversity  comes  upon  us,  light 
will  arise  in  the  midst  of  darkness,  if  we  can  indulo^c  the 
grateful  reflection  that  we  have  been  eyes  to  the  blind 


424  hall's  scripture  history. 

and  feet  to  the  lame — that  wo  have  delivered  the  poor 
that  cried,  the  fatherless,  and  him  that  had  none  to  help 
liim — that  the  blessing  of  them  that  were  ready  to  perish 
came  upon  us — that  we  caused  the  widow's  heart  to 
sing  for  joy  ! 

Where  should  he  seek  for  pity  and  relief  hut  at  the 
gate  of  the  temple  ?  True  piety  and  true  charity  are 
inseparable — they  are  twin  stars  which  shine  not  singly 
on  the  soul.  Then  are  we  best  disposed  to  mercy  to- 
wards our  brethren,  when  we  come  to  implore  the  divine 
mercy  towards  ourselves.  How  can  we  refuse  our  mites, 
when  we  come  to  ask  for  talents  ] 

Jesus  passed  by ;  but  his  eye  was  fixed  on  the  helpless 
sufferer.  His  goodness  antici2:»ates  our  solicitations — he 
knows  our  necessities  before  we  can  express  them — he 
gives  us  those  things  which  for  our  unworthiness  we 
dare  not,  and  for  our  blindness  we  cannot  ask.  With  his 
accustomed  mercy  the  Savior  of  mankind  cast  a  gracious 
look  on  the  dark  and  disconsolate  object  before  him.  If 
we  suffered,  and  our  God  regarded  not,  we  should  in- 
deed be  the  victims  of  despair — but  his  eyes  are  on  the 
ways  of  men — their  sorrows  are  all  in  his  sight.  O  Sa- 
vior, why  should  we  not  imitate  thee  in  this  thy  charity  ? 
Wo  to  those  eyes  which  can  gaze  only  on  beauty,  mag- 
nificence and  gi'andeur;  and  turn  away  with  disdain 
from  poverty  and  anguish  ! 

The  disciples  as  well  as  Christ  behold  the  blind  man, 
but  with  difierent  impressions — "  Master,  who  did  sirij 
this  man  or  his  parents,  that  he  was  born  blind  1"  The 
answer  is  direct  and  positive — there  was  a  higher  cause 
— the  glory  which  would  redound  unto  CJod  by  this  de- 
monstration of  mercy.  The  divine  visitations  are  not  all 
punishments — some  ai*e  for  our  tnal,  our  warning,  or 
our  reformation — all  show  forth  the  power,  the  justice 
and  the  goodness  of  God. 

He  who  at  first  made  man  out  of  the  clay,  with  clay 


THE    BLIND    BEGGAR    CURED.  425 

anoints  the  eyes  of  him  that  was  born  blind,  and  sends 
him  to  the  pool  of  Siloam  for  the  completion  of  his  re- 
covery. All  things  receive  their  virtue  from  divine  insti- 
tution. How  could  bread  and  wine  strengthen  and  re- 
fresh the  soul  but  for  the  blessing  annexed  to  it  from 
above  1  On  this  depends  all  their  use  and  all  their  effi- 
cacy. Jordan  can  then  heal  the  leper,  and  Siloam  give 
light  to  the  blind.  "  He  went  his  way,  and  washed,  and 
came,  seeing." 

O  Lord,  what  were  the  thoughts  of  this  object  of  thy 
compassion  when  his  eyes  were  now  first  given  him  ! 
Into  what  a  world  of  wonders  did  he  find  himself  trans- 
ported !  How  did  he  gaze  with  admiration  on  the  heav- 
ens and  earth,  the  faces  and  shapes  of  all  creatures,  the 
varieties  of  colors  around  him,  the  cheerfulness  of  the 
light,  the  lively  beams  of  the  sun,  the  vast  expanse  of  the 
air,  the  limpid  transparency  of  the  waters,  the  glorious  or- 
naments of  the  temple,  the  stately  palaces  of  Jerusalem  ! 
Every  thing  was  full  of  delight,  full  of  astonishment. 
With  what  sensations,  O  blessed  Savior,  will  thine  happy 
servants  enter  into  the  joy  of  their  Lord !  How  will 
they  be  affected,  when  the  darkness  of  mortality  being 
done  away,  they  shall  behold  thy  presence  in  righteous- 
ness— when  they  shall  be  called  on  to  witness  the  felicity 
of  that  other  world,  the  exaltation  of  thy  saints  and 
angels — the  majesty  of  thy  throne — the  incomprehensible 
brightness  of  thy  glorious  Godhead !  O  my  soul,  set 
thine  affections  on  things  above,  not  on  things  on  the 
earth — accustom  thy  thoughts  to  a  foretaste  of  that  heav- 
en to  which  they  should  aspire — keep  it  ever  in  remem- 
brance, that  the  objects  of  earthly  ambition  have  no  value 
when  compared  with  "that  true  glory  which  excelleth." 

The  beggar  who  had  asked  alms  at  the  gate  of  the 
temple  could  not  be  unknown  to  the  inhabitants  of  Jeru- 
salem or  of  Judea — his  own  calamity,  the  place  of  his 
resort,   the   importunity  of  his   requests,  had  made  him 


42G  hall's  scripture  history. 

every  way  remarkable.  Our  Savior  purposely  made 
choice  of  such  a  subject  for  his  miracle — one  so  pooi', 
one  known  so  publicly.  The  veiy  doubts,  the  very  inqui- 
ries of  those  who  questioned  his  identity  tended  more  to 
the  confirmation  of  the  truth.  The  Jews  could  not  be- 
lieve that  he,  who  now  looked  on  them  with  confidence 
and  joy,  was  the  v/retched  suifercr  whom  they  had  so 
lately  seen  in  darkness  and  misery,  till  they  obtained 
demonstration  that  prejudice  itself  was  unable  to  gainsay 
or  resist.  The  miracles  of  Christ  caused  a  sensible  alter- 
ation in  men,  not  more  in  their  own  apprehension  than 
in  the  judgment  of  others.  Thus  in  the  relief  of  our  spi- 
ritual blindness,  the  whole  habit  of  the  man  is  changed. 
Before,  the  face  was  dark  and  gloomy — now  it  is  full  of 
light  and  cheerfulness,  through  the  knowledge  of  God 
and  the  hope  of  heaven.  Before,  the  heart  was  devoted 
to  earthly  things — now,  the  convert  uses  this  world  as  not 
abusing  it.  Before,  his  thoughts  and  anxieties  had  refer- 
ence only  to  his  body,  his  estate,  or  the  opinion  of  man- 
kind— now,  they  regard  the  displeasure  of  God  and  the 
peril  of  his  soul.  If  any  man  be  in  Christ,  he  is  a  ?ieio 
creature — old  things  are  passed  away — behold,  all  things 
are  become  new  ! 

The  subject  of  these  doubts  is  himself  eager  to  remove 
them — **  I  am  he."  He  would  not  conceal  from  others 
the  mercies  he  had  experienced — he  would  not  be  so 
unjust,  or  so  ungiateful,  as  to  suppress  the  loving-kind- 
ness of  God.  We  are  not  worthy,  O  Lord,  of  that  light 
which  thou  hast  shed  abroad  into  our  souls,  if  we  do  not 
seek  to  diffuse  it  among  mankind.  Let  them  give  thanks 
whom  the  Lord  hath  redeemed  and  delivered  from  the 
liand  of  the  enemy — let  them  laud  him  with  their  whole 
lieart — let  them  show  forth  all  his  marvellous  works — let 
them  declai'e  his  name  among  their  brethren — let  them 
proclaim  his  praises  in  tlie  great  congregation. 

Man  is  ever  inquisitive.     AVe   search   studiously   into 


THE    BLlxND    BEGGAR    CURED.  427 

the  wonders  of  the  natural  world — wo  delight  in  contem- 
plating the  elaborate  inventions  of  art.  No  marvel,  if,  in 
a  case  transcending  both  art  and  nature,  the  utmost  de- 
gree of  curiosity  was  excited.  A  thirst  after  forbidden 
knowledge  once  cost  us  dear — but  where  it  is  good  and 
lawful  to  be  informed,  a  desire  of  information  is  com- 
mendable. "  How  were  thine  eyes  opened  ?"  Our  ig- 
norance can  only  be  removed  by  impartial  inquiry — if 
we  make  this  inquiry  from  just  motives,  and  in  the  spirit 
of  meekness,  we  improve,  as  w^e  ought,  the  first  privilege 
of  human  reason. 

He  who  had  been  so  ready  to  declare  himself  the  sub- 
ject of  the  cure,  is  equally  zealous  to  proclaim  the  author 
of  it.  "A  man  that  is  called  Jesus  made  clay  and  anoint- 
ed mine  eyes,  and  said  to  me.  Go  to  the  pool  of  Silomft 
and  wash — and  I  went  and  washed,  and  I  received 
sight."  As  yet  his  faith  was  not  arrived  at  that  pre-emi- 
nence which  afterwards  ranked  him  among  the  most 
illustrious  professors  of  the  truth.  Hitherto  he  thought 
his  benefactor  a  wonderful  man,  a  mighty  prophet — and 
soon  from  the  principles  of  the  doctiine  of  truth  we  be- 
hold him  advancing  to  perfection — no  longer  a  babe  in 
righteousness,  but  growing  in  gi'ace  and  in  the  knowledge 
of  our  Lord  and  Savior,  unto  the  measure  of  the  stature 
of  the  fulness  of  Christ.  "Why  herein  is  a  marvellous 
thing,  that  ye  know  not  from  whence  he  is,  and  yet  he 
hath  opened  mine  eyes.  Since  the  world  began  was  It 
not  heard  that  any  man  opened  the  eyes  of  one  that  was 
bom  blind.  If  this  man  were  not  of  God,  he  could  do 
nothing." 

Had  the  people  who  made  inquiry  into  this  astonish- 
ing fact  heard  it  with  unprejudiced  ears,  they  could  not 
but  have  listened  M'ith  pious  admiration,  they  could  not 
but  have  declared  their  belief  in  so  omnipotent  an  Agent 
— now,  adverse  to  the  blessed  Jesus  and  partial  to  the 
Pharisees,  they  summon  him  that  was  once  blind  before 


428  hall's  scripture  history. 

these  implacable  enemies  of  Christ.  Unjust  autliority 
will  not  want  some  base  and  dastardly  souls  to  soothe  it 
in  its  tyrannous  courses,  though  truth,  and  righteousness, 
and  nature  itself  arc  made  victims  on  its  unhallowed  al- 
tar. "  He  is  of  age,  ask  him — let  him  speak  for  himself. 
These  words  spake  his  parents,  because  they  feared 
the  Jews — for  the  Jews  had  agi'eed  already,  that  if  any 
man  did  confess  that  Jesus  was  Christ,  he  should  be  put 
out  of  the  synagogue." 

Our  Savior  had  performed  this  euro  on  the  Sabbath. 
Never  is  charity  unseasonable ;  never  is  it  more  season- 
able than  on  that  holy  day  devoted  to  a  God  of  mercy. 
Yet  even  this  can  afford  subject  of  accusation  to  the  bi- 
gotted  and  scrupulous  cavillers,  who  misconstrued  the 
very  wonders  which  proved  the  divinity  of  our  Lord  and 
deemed  them  impeachments  of  his  holiness.  "  Therefore 
did  the  Jews  persecute  Jesus,  and  sought  to  kill  him, 
because  he  had  done  these  things  on  the  Sabbath  day." 

We  now  find  the  man  who  once  sat  and  begged,  wit- 
nessing a  good  confession  before  the  assembled  Phari- 
sees. We  find  him  defending  the  gi'acious  Author  of  his 
cure  against  the  cavils  of  malignity  and  injustice.  We 
see  him,  a  resolute  confessor,  suffering  excommunication 
for  the  name  of  Christ,  and  maintaining  the  innocence, 
the  honor,  the  divinity  of  his  benefactor — we  hear  him 
teaching  the  doctrines  of  truth  to  them  who  sat  in  the 
chair  of  Moses,  and  convicting  them  of  blindness  who 
punished  him  for  seeing. 

O  blessed  and  zealous  servant  of  thy  Master,  how 
valiant  art  thou  for  the  faith  of  that  God  who  helpetli 
them  that  are  fallen — that  God,  who  giveth  sight  to  the 
blind !  From  thy  state  of  poverty  and  wretchedness 
thou  ait  exalted  to  be  an  advocate  for  thy  Savior.  Thy 
gain  of  bodily  sight  hath  opened  the  eyes  of  thine  under- 
standing. Thou  hast  lost  a  synagogue  and  hast  found 
the  way  to  heaven.     Thy  father   and  thy  mother  forsako 


THE    SONS    OF    ZEBEDEE.  429 

tliee — but  the  Lord  taketli  thee  up.  Thou  art  rejected 
by  hypocritical  sinners — thou  art  received  with  a  gra- 
cious welcome  by  the  God  of  glory. 


87.— THE   SONS  OF  ZEBEDEE. 

The  time  now  drew  nigh  when  the  Author  of  our  sal- 
vation should  depart  from  the  world  and  go  unto  the 
Father — he  foreknew,  and  he  had  foretold,  his  death. 
Every  moment  seemed  precious  to  those  who  had  any 
favors  to  solicit  either  for  themselves  or  others.  Had 
the  wife  of  Zebedee  been  as  judicious  with  respect  to 
the  subject  of  her  petition  as  she  was  with  respect  to  the 
lime  of  urging  it,  she  had  met  with  no  reproof  at  the 
hands  of  her  Redeemer.  The  suit  is  half  obtained  which 
is  seasonably  made — it  was  at  the  departure  of  the  An- 
gel that  Jacob  imjjlored  a  blessing — the  double  portion 
of  Elijah's  spirit  was  not  asked  for  till  the  moment  of 
his  ascending. 

The  misapprehension  of  this  anxious  mother  must 
not  be  concealed — but  her  faith  makes  atonement  for 
her  error.  While  she  hears  Christ  speak  of  his  suffer- 
ings and  death,  she  talks  of  his  glory — while  he  points 
out  his  cross,  she  looks  forward  to  his  crown.  Had  she 
seen  the  elders  of  the  Jews  approaching  our  Savior  with 
a  submissive  proffer  of  their  allegiance — had  she  seen 
the  usurper  Herod,  or  the  governors  appointed  by  Ca?sar, 
tendering  to  Christ  the  sceptre  of  his  royal  ancestor, 
the  wisdom  of  this  world  would  have  been  led  to  enter- 
tain the  thought  of  his  sovereignty.  But,  when  the  sound 
of  ignominy,  suffering  and  death  was  in  her  ears,  then  to 
request  distinction  and  pre-eminence  for  her  children  in 


430  hall's  scripture  history. 

the  kingdom  of  Jesus,  argues  a  degree  of  constancy  no 
less  deser^dng  of  wonder  than  of  praise.  When,  in  health 
and  peace  and  prosperity,  we  talk  of  our  trust  in  God, 
and  our  assurance  of  his  favor,  our  professions  are  of 
little  value — but  if,  in  the  hour  of  adversity  and  son'ow, 
we  can  believe,  and  hope,  and  rejoice,  our  piety  is  so 
much  more  noble  as  our  difficulties  are  gi'eater.  Bless- 
ed was  that  servant  who,  when  he  sat  in  sackcloth  and 
ashes,  exclaimed  with  rapturous  fervency,  "  I  know  that 
my  Redemer  livetli." 

The  fond  parent,  whose  zeal  thus  brought  her  to  the 
feet  of  Jesus,  knew  not  the  extent  and  nature  of  her  own 
request.  Connected  by  near  ties  of  consanguinity  with  his 
blessed  mother — herself  one  of  his  most  constant  and  di- 
ligent attendants  from  the  earliest  period  of  his  mission 
— happy  in  the  various  distinctions  conferred  on  her 
sons,  she  profl'ers  her  petition  to  the  Lord  of  life  without 
apprehending  a  refusal.  She  urges  him  not  on  her  own 
behalf.  Her  fervent  affection  for  her  children  teaches 
her  to  lay  aside  all  selfish  considerations,  and  to  think  of 
nothing  but  their  future  honor  and  advancement.  It  is 
only  for  her  beloved  offsj^^'^^o  ^^''^'^  ^^^^  ^^^^^  ^^  Zebedee 
is  ambitious. 

Though  oiu-  Lord  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head — 
though  he  was  despised  and  rejected  among  men — 
though  he  could  not,  without  a  miracle,  pa.y  the  accus- 
tomed tribute,  the  devout  matron  pervades  this  veil  of 
obscurity,  and  in  the  person  of  Him  who  made  himself 
of  no  reputation,  and  took  upon  him  the  form  of  a  ser- 
vant, she  acknowledges  the  Messiah  the  King  of  Glory. 

i3chold  her  in  the  lowest  gesture  of  a  suppliant,  at  the 
feet  of  her  Lord.  She  signifies  her  desire  that  he  would 
give  effect  to  her  wishes — but  as  yet  she  hesitates,  and 
seems  conscious  of  their  impropriety.  When  our  desires 
arc  not  con'ected  by  reason,  we  are  afraid  and  ashamed 
to  clothe  them  in  language.     The   proud  man   sighs   for 


TIIK    SONS    OF    ZEDEOEE.  431 

temporal  iionors — tlic  covetous  for  wealth — the  mali- 
cious for  revenge  on  his  enemies — the  profligate  for 
luxury  anil  j^leasure.  But  the  prayer  of  faith  and  love 
approaches  with  boldness  to  the  throne  of  mercy,  assured 
of  a  favorable  reception  ;  nor  stands  blushing  without,  as 
not  daring  to  appear.  When  we  know  that  our  requests 
are  holy,  we  cannot  come  with  too  much  confidence  into 
the  presence  of  God. 

He  who  knew  the  thoughts  of  this  mother  and  of  her 
sons,  asks,  (as  if  he  had  been  a  stranger  to  their  pur- 
poses,) "  What  wouldst  thou  V  The  suit  is  no  longer 
delayed.  Emboldened  by  the  condescension  of  her  Lord, 
the  wife  of  Zebedee  gives  utterance  to  her  thoughts — 
"  Grant  that  these  my  two  sons  may  sit,  the  one  on  thy 
right  hand,  the  other  on  the  left,  in  thy  kingdom  !"  O 
Lord,  be  it  our  ambition  to  lead  a  life  of  holiness,  and  to 
aspire  after  everlasting  felicity — but  as  to  precedence 
in  celestial  dignities,  we  do  not,  we  dare  not  solicit  it. 
Let  us  but  enter  into  the  joy  of  our  Lord — and  for  the 
rest,  "  deal  thou  with  us  according  to  thy  name  :  for 
svv'eet  is  thy  mercy." 

The  mother  makes  her  request — the  sons  have  the 
answer.  **  Ye  know  not  what  ye  ask."  In  his  judgment 
on  human  actions,  God  ever  has  respect  to  the  first 
mover,  as  well  as  to  the  instrument.  Christ  informs  his 
erring  disciples,  that  while  faith  is  the  gi'ound  of  prayer, 
knowledge  should  accom2:)any  faith — that  in  our  ordinary 
conversation  an  idle  v.ord  is  dangerous,  but  in  our  appli- 
cations to  heaven,  if  we  understand  not  our  own  peti- 
tions, it  is  an  aggravated  fault — that  if  we  come  with  re- 
quests that  ought  not  to  be  made,  we  profane  that  name 
which  we  invoke. 

To  convince  them  of  their  unfitness  for  glory,  they  are 
told  of  their  inability  to  suffer.  "  Are  ye  able  to  drink 
of  the  cup  that  I  shall  drink  of,  and  to  be  baptized  witli 
the  baptism  that  I  am  baptized  with  'i"    Blessed  Lord, 


432  hall's  scripture  history. 

what  cup  was  ever  so  full  of  bitterness  as  thine  1  The 
potion  tendered  thee  by  thine  enemies,  though  mixed 
with  vinegar  and  gall,  what  was  it,  when  compared  to 
that  cup  which  could  not  pass  from  thee — which  for  our 
sake  thou  didst  drink  to  the  very  dregs  1  And  can  we 
repine  and  murmur  at  our  light  afflictions,  when  we  see 
thee,  the  Son  of  thy  Father's  love,  thus  acquainted  with 
grief]  We  will  endeavor,  O  Lord,  we  will  endeavor,  as 
far  as  our  mortal  weakness  will  permit,  to  walk  in  thy 
footsteps — we  cannot  be  thine,  if  we  partake  not  of  thy 
cup — through  much  tribulation  must  we  enter  into  the 
kingdom  of  God.  In  vain  shall  we  expect  to  pass,  by  a 
sudden  transition,  from  luxury  and  base  indulgence  to 
celestial  glories.  The  path  of  vice  is  not  that  which 
leads  to  the  throne  of  heaven.  To  follow  our  Savior 
through  his  sufferings  to  his  rest  and  happiness  is  no  easy, 
no  trivial  labor.  If  ihei/  were  scarcely  able  to  do  it  who 
had  been  so  long  blessed  with  his  presence,  informed  by 
his  doctrine,  and,  as  it  were,  possessed  of  their  heaven 
by  anticipation  in  his  society,  how  shall  our  feeble  body, 
how  shall  our  imperfect  mind  support  the  conflict  1 
Blessed  Savior,  what  can  we  do,  what  can  we  suffer 
without  thee  1  If  thy  strength  be  not  made  perfect  in 
our  weakness,  who  shall  be  able  to  share  thy  bitter  cup, 
thy  painful  baptism  ]  Cover  thou  our  heads  in  the  day 
of  battle — prepare  us  for  our  trials,  enable  us  to  sustain 
them — we  can  do  all  things  through  the  aid  of  thine 
omnipotence. 

Even  holy  men  of  God  may  be  in  an  error  as  to  their 
own  degi'ee  of  christian  perfection.  Out  of  an  eager 
desire  of  honor  the  sons  of  Zebedee  accept  of  the  condi- 
tions— "  We  are  able."  Alas,  how  different  are  suffer- 
ings in  speculation  and  in  practice!  How  near  was  that 
hour  in  its  approach,  wherein  all  the  disciples,  James 
and  John  among  their  number,  forsook  their  Master  and 
fled — forsook  him  in  the  moment  when  he  was  suiround- 


THE    SONS    OF    ZEBEDEE.  433 

ed  by  his  implacable  enemies  who  thirsted  for  his  life  ! 
Nothing  is  more  dangerous  than  to  vaunt  presumptuous- 
ly of  our  own  abilities — then  are  we  more  especially 
suffered  to  fall,  that  we  may  be  "  ashamed  of  this  self- 
confident  boasting."  O  God,  let  us  ever  humble  our- 
selves under  a  due  sense  of  our  own  insufficiency — let  us 
ascribe  all  glory  to  thee,  and  take  nothing  to  ourselves 
but  our  infirmities  I 

O  wonderful  benignity  of  the  Son  of  God  !  He  pities 
the  weakness  of  his  apostles,  and  neither  inveighs  against 
their  ambition  in  asking,  nor  their  presumptuous  reliance 
on  their  own  strength — he  rather  views  their  answer  in 
its  more  favorable  light,  and  omitting  their  errors,  en- 
courages their  good  intentions — "  Ye  shall  drink  indeed 
of  my  cup — ye  shall  be  baptized  with  my  baptism^ — but 
to  sit  on  my  right  hand  and  on  my  left  shall  be  given 
to  them  for  whom  it  is  prepared  of  my  Father."  In 
what  acts  of  condescension  and  love,  O  blessed  Lord, 
hast  thou  expressed  thy  concession  and  thy  denial ! 
Surely  that  which  thou  didst  grant  was  equal  in  value 
to  that  which  thou  didst  refuse.  To  be  thus  associated 
with  thee  was  a  dignity  as  great  as  that  which  the  anx- 
ious mother  solicited  in  vain.  If  we  suffer  with  our  Mas- 
ter we  shall  also  reign  with  him.  If  we  are  faithful  unto 
death,  we  shall  obtain  the  crown  of  everlasting  life. 

Therefore,  seeing  we  have  received  this  ministry,  as 
we  have  received  mercy,  let  us  faint  not — but  let  us  run 
with  patience  the  race  that  is  set  before  us — looking 
unto  Jesus,  the  author  and  finisher  of  our  faith — who  for 
the  joy  that  was  set  before  him,  endured  the  cross,  de- 
spising the  shame :  and  is  set  down  at  the  right  handof 
the  throne  of  God. 


Script.  Hist.  19 


434  hall's  scripture  history. 


88.— LAZARUS. 

As  the  stream  runs  more  widely  the  nearer  it  ap- 
■proaches  to  the  ocean  into  which  it  flows,  so  Joth  tlie 
Savior  of  mankind  -work  more  powerfully  as  he  draws 
nearer  to  his  glory.  The  restoration  of  Lazarus  from 
death  was  one  of  his  last  and  of  his  greatest  mira- 
cles— when  he  was  himself  about  to  die,  he  recalled  his 
faithful  servant  from  the  tomb.  Blessed  Lord,  none  but 
an  infinite  power  could  so  far  go  beyond  nature  as  to 
revive  one  who  had  been  four  days  dead — none  but  He 
who  created  man,  could  thus  make  him  anew.  The 
earth,  from  which  thou  didst  raise  his  body — the  invisi- 
ble world,  from  which  tliou  didst  summon  back  his  spirit, 
are  equally  under  the  control  of  thine  omnipotence. 

Sickness  is  the  common  prelude  to  death.  No  human 
being  is  exempt  from  this  condition  of  our  nature — nei- 
ther youth,  nor  wisdom,  nor  holiness  can  avert  the 
awful  visitation.  Lazarus,  ichojji  Jesus  loved,  is  on  the 
bed  of  languishing. 

The  anxiety  of  a  fond  sister  is  eager  to  have  recourse 
to  the  assistance  of  her  Savior  in  behalf  of  one  so  dear 
to  them  both.  If  his  arm  was  ever  ready  to  be  stretched 
out  to  the  relief  of  strangers,  if  his  gracious  voice  brought 
comfort  to  the  house  of  mourning  when  no  especial 
cause  moved  him  to  show  mercy — how  surely  might  the 
power  of  that  voice,  that  arm,  be  relied  on  in  behalf  of 
Lazarus !  Doubtless  Martha  and  Mary  imagined  that 
they  had  secured  the  recovery  of  their  brother,  when 
they  sent  unto  Jesus  saying,  "  Lord,  behold  he  whom 
thou  lovest  is  sick  !" 

Not  a  pang  that  was  felt,  not  a  groan  that  was  uttered 
by  Lazarus  was  unknown  to  our  blessed  Savior — yet 
tliis  Lord  of  life  suffers  the  friend  so  dear  to  him  to 
sicken,  and  even  to  die,  without  approaching  or  seeming 


LAZARUS.  435 

to  interpose  in  his  behalf.  Not  that  there  was  either  hia- 
bility,  or  disinchnation  to  help — "  this  sickness,"  howev- 
er outward  appearances  indicate  the  contrary,  "  is  not 
unto  death,  but  for  the  glory  of  God,  that  the  Son  of  God 
might  be  glorified  thereby."  O  Savior,  tliou  didst  usually 
call  thyself  by  the  humble  appellation  of  "  the  Son  of 
man,"  veiling  thy  Godhead  under  the  garb  of  our  mortal 
infirmity — but  sometimes  thou  wouldst  show  the  radiance 
of  thy  light,  beaming  through  the  clouds  which  surround- 
ed thee.  Thou  wert  near  to  thy  passion.  It  was  season- 
able for  Thee  at  this  time  to  assert  thy  just  title.  Nei- 
ther was  this  an  act  which  thine  human  nature  could 
challenge  as  its  own,  but  one  far  transcending  all  finite 
powers.  To  die,  was  appointed  to  the  Son  of  man — to 
raise  from  death  and  corruption,  was  the  prerogative  of 
the  Son  of  God. 

But  wherefore,  O  Lord,  wouldst  thou  be  so  long  ab- 
sent from  thine  afflicted  servants'?  Wheiefore,  but  to* 
exalt  the  glory  of  thy  miracle,  to  foreshadow  thine  own 
resurrection,  to  strengthen  the  faith  of  thy  disciples  i! 
Hadst  thou  prevented  the  death  of  Lazarus,  his  recovery 
might  have  been  deduced  from  natural  causes — hadst. 
thou  arrived  speedily  after  his  decease,  it  might  have) 
been  imagined  that  no  positive  separation  had  taken 
place  between  his  soul  and  body — now,  this  period  of 
time  which  elapsed  makes  his  dissolution  certain,  and 
thy  demonstration  of  almighty  power  decisive. 

Our  Savior,  when  he  judged  it  seasonable,  at  length 
addressed  his  disciples — *'  Let  us  go  into  Judea  again." 
He  had  retired  from  the  tyranny  of  his  persecutors,  and 
from  their  murderous  attempts  to  take  away  his  life,  be- 
cause his  hour  was  not  fully  come.  Now,  his  love  for 
-Lazarus,  and  the  care  of  his  divine  glory  bring  him  thith- 
er once  more,  prepared  for  the  utmost  extremity  of  suf- 
fering. He  calls  his  servants  to  shai'e  with  him  in  those 
grievous  trials.    They   cannot  be  his  true  discijjles    if 


436  HALI.'d    SCRirXUKE    IlIisTOUY, 

they  will  not  take  up  the  cross  of  their  Lord.  We  nui3t 
be  cai'eless  of  all  danger  when  he  summons  us  to  the 
conflict.  Whithersoever  he  bids  us  follow  him,  though 
snares  and  sorrows,  and  death  are  in  the  path,  we  must 
commend  our  spirits  to  his  protection,  and  cheei-fully 
obey  his  commandment — "  Let  us  also  go,  that  we  may 
die  with  him." 

Our  Lord  had  formerly  assured  his  disciples  that  the 
sickness  of  Lazarus  was  not  fatal — he  now  will  not  at 
once  acquaint  them  with  the  death  of  their  companion, 
nor  wdll  he  altogether  conceal  it.  Shadowing  it  out  un- 
der a  figurative  expression,  he  said  to  them,  *'  Our  friend 
Lazarus  sleepeth ;  but  I  go  to  awaken  him  out  of  his 
sleep.*'  O  meek  and  merciful  Savior,  thou  who  thought- 
est  it  no  robbery  to  be  equal  with  God  didst  not  disdain 
to  give  the  endearing  title  of  friends  to  the  cliiklren  of 
men — "  Henceforth  I  call  you  not  servants — you  arc  my 
friends,  if  ye  do  whatsoever  I  command  you."  O  happy 
and  honorable  distinction,  far  exceeding  all  human  de- 
sert, worthy  of  the  most  animated  exertions  of  the  chris- 
tian to  obtain  and  preserve  !  If  God  be  for  us,  who  can 
be  against  us  ]  If  he  be  our  friend,  \\hat  shall  we  fear, 
though  evil  men  and  evil  spirits  are  enemies  ] 

And  dost  thou,  O  Savior,  describe  the  separation  of 
soul  and  body  under  the  gentle  tranquil  image  of  sleep  ] 
Thou,  who  art  the  great  Lord  of  life  and  death,  canst 
not  be  unacquainted  with  the  nature  of  both.  It  is  enough 
that  thou  hast  said  it — let  not  our  fears  or  our  infidelity 
mislead  us — while  thy  wisdom  hath  impkmted  in  thy 
creatures  a  natural  and  necessary  love  of  life,  thy  mercy 
hath  disarmed  death  of  its  most  excruciating  torment — 
thou  hast  made  it  an  entrance  into  the  joys  of  immorta- 
lity— thou  hast  converted  a  merciless  enemy  into  a  salu- 
tary faithful  friend.  Who  shall  fear  to  take  his  rest  by 
night,  after  the  wearisome  toils  of  the  day  ]  What  can  bo 
80  refreshing  to  the  cxliausted  traveller  as  the  comfort  of 


LAZARUS.  437 

repose  ?-  Let  us  but  be  prepared  by  faith  and  repent- 
ance, and  if  he  come  "at  even,  or  at  midnight,  or  at 
the  cock-crowing,  or  in  the  morning,"  we  shall  be  ready 
to  meet  the  bridegroom.  We  will  lay  us  down  in  peace, 
and  sleep — for  it  is  thou,  Lord,  only,  that  makest  us  to 
rest  in  safety. 

Lord,  from  this  sleep  ihy  voice  will  awaken  us,  as  it 
did  thy  Lazarus — "  In  our  flesh  shall  we  see  God."  The 
word  which  created  can  revive,  can  restore  U6 — can 
command  the  soul  to  return  to  that  body  it  once  in- 
habited— can  command  the  body  to  arise,  incorruptible, 
immortal,  and  to  re-unite  itself  to  the  soul.  It  is  our 
comfort  and  security  against  the  terrors  of  death,  and 
the  power  of  the  gi'avc,  that  our  re?urrection  depends 
on  the  omnipotence  and  immutability  of  God. 

Unwilling  to  return  to  Judea,  the  scene  of  past  trou- 
bles and  persecutions,  the  disciples  are  forward  to  em- 
brace the  words  of  their  i^Iaster  in  a  literal  sense — 
Lord,  if  he  sleep,  he  shall  do  tcell — If  thou  hast  no  other 
design  in  this  perilous  journey  than  the  restoration  of 
thy  beloved  Lazarus  from  his  sickness,  nature  is  already 
anticipating  thy  purpose.  His  sleep  is  an  indication  of 
speedy  recovery — extremity  of  pain  no  longer  deprives 
him  of  his  rest — a  grateful  respite  is  given  to  his  sufler- 
ings."  Had  our  Savior  only  spoken  of  natural  sleep, 
their  ai-gument  had  been  plausible,  though  even  then  not 
absolutely  conclusive — now,  their  misconstruction  of  the 
words  of  their  master  led  them  astray,  so  that  "  this  say- 
ing w^as  hidden  from  them,  neither  understood  they  the 
things  which  were  spoken."  Nothing  can  be  more  dan- 
gerous than  to  confine  ourselves  entirely  to  the  letter, 
when  we  take  into  our  hand  the  oracles  of  God — one  er- 
ror may  draw  on  more  ;  and  though  the  first  be  never  so 
slight,  the  last  may  be  pregnant  with  the  most  fatal  mis- 
chiefs to  our  souls. 

Soon  does  our  blessed   Lord  explain  his  meaning — 


438  hall's  scripture  history. 

"  Lazarus  is  dead  :  and  I  am  glad  for  your  sakes  that  I 
was  not  there — nevertheless,  let  us  go  to  him."  Thus 
didst  thou,  O  Savior,  testify  thine  omniscience  to  thy  dis- 
ciples, that  from  thence  they  might  form  a  just  conclu- 
sion of  thine  almighty  power.  Thou  didst  not  exj^ressly 
declare  that  thou  wort  both  able  and  willing  to  recall 
him  from  his  grave — but  if  (while  absent  and  at  a  dis- 
tance) thou  couldst  speak  with  certainty  of  his  dissolu- 
tion, they  could  not  but  form  the  just  inference,  **  We 
serve  a  Master  who  knows  all  things — and  l^lc  who 
knows  all  things,  can  do  all  things." 

The  absence  of  our  Savior  from  the  death-bed  of  Laz- 
aiiis  was  not  accidental,  but  voluntary.  To  the  pious 
sisters  of  the  departed  christian  it  afforded  nothing  but 
present  anguish — but  the  advantage  which  their  faith 
would  gain  by  so  divine  a  miracle  as  followed,  was  more 
than  able  to  counterbalance  this  momentary  distress. 
The  cause  of  their  grief  therefore  is  to  our  blessed  Lord 
a  subject  of  joy.  When  a  father  beholds  his  son  fighting 
for  his  country,  he  sees  danger  and  death  on  one  side, 
renown  and  victory  on  the  other — he  grieves  at  the  peril, 
but  he  rejoices  in  the  honor.  Thus  doth  the  Almighty 
in  all  our  sorrows — he  hears  our  groans,  he  notes  our 
tears,  and  pities  us — but  he  looks  upon  our  patience, 
our  faith,  our  hope,  our  crown,  and  is  glad  that  we  are 
afflicted. 

"  Lazarus  is  dead — nevertheless,  let  us  go  to  him," 
What  should  separate,  if  death  cannot  ]  Friendship  it- 
self can  but  dismiss  the  lifeless  remains  to  their  tomb, 
attending  them  thither  with  pious  soitow,  and  commit- 
tino^  them  to  their  silent  dust.  But  here  is  an  unshaken 
Friend,  whom  the  gi'ave  itself  cannot  sever  from  us — O 
love,  stronger  than  death,  love  triumphant  over  corrup- 
tion! Lord,  even  these  our  earthly  tabernacles  shall 
hereafter  be  members  of  that  mystical  body  whereof 
thou  art  the  Head.     We    "  know  that  our  Redeemer 


LAZARUS.  439 

livctli,  and  that  he  shall  stand  at  the  latter  day  upon  the 
earth  ;  and  though  after  our  skin,  worms  destroy  this 
body,-. yet  in  our  flesh  shall  we  see  God." 

O  Savior,  death  cannot  hinder  our  approach  to  thee, 
or  thy  return  to  us.  The  hour  cometh,  when  all  that  are 
in  the  gi'aves  shall  hear  thy  voice,  and  shall  go  forth  to 
meet  thee.  Awake  and  sing,  ye  that  dwell  in  dust — for 
thy  dew  is  as  the  dew  of  herbs,  and  the  earth  shall  cast 
out  her  dead.  The  ransomed  of  the  Lord  shall  return, 
and  come  to  Sion  with  songs,  and  everlasting  joy  shall  be 
on  their  heads — they  shall  obtain  gladness  and  joy — and 
sorrow  and  mourning  shall  flee  away. 


89.--L  A  Z  A  R  U  S  .—continued. 

The  news  of  Christ's  approach  seems  to  have  awaken- 
ed some  degi'ee  of  comfort  in  the  sisters  of  Lazarus. 
Had  he  been  present  at  an  earlier  period,  the  enemy 
would  sooner  have  been  vanquished.  Death  would  have 
retired  from  so  unequal  a  contest,  and  fled  before  the 
Lord  of  Life.  The  words  of  Martha,  when  she  came  forth 
to  meet  her  Savior,  are  not  the  words  of  one  who  sor- 
rowed without  hope — "■  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been  here 
my  brother  had  not  died — but  I  know  that  even  now, 
whatsoever  thou  wilt  ask  of  God,  God  will  give  it  thee." 
Joy  was  wont  to  possess  her  soul  at  the  aiTival  of  so 
blessed  a  guest — she  now  receives  him  as  one  whose 
grief  was  sanctified  by  faith  and  piety.  She  as  well  as 
her  sister  had  in  time  past  sat  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  and 
heard  his  word — she  knew  that  her  brother  would  rise 
again  in  the  resun-ection  at  the  last  day.  And  when  He 
whom  God  sent  spake   the  words  of  God,   "  I   am   the 


440  hall's  scripture  history. 

Resurrection  and  the  Life — he  that  believeth  in  Me, 
though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live,"  she  replied  with 
rapturous  fervency,  "Yea,  Lord — I  believe  that  thou  art 
the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  who  should  come  into  the 
world."  In  language  worthy  of  the  Holy  Ghost  which 
inspired  it,  (see  1  Corinthians,  12  :  3,)  she  bears  testimo- 
ny to  the  power  and  Godhead  of  the  Messiah,  and  to 
the  certainty  of  a  future  resurrection.  This  conference 
hath  revived  her  drooping  spirit — the  consolations  of 
God  have  raised  her  heart  to  the  expectation  of  some 
wonderful  event.  Now  therefore  she  hastens  back  to  her 
Bister,  and  endeavors  to  communicate  to  her  a  portion  of 
her  hope.  She  finds  her,  not  alone,  but  surrounded  by 
many  sympathizing  friends,  who  came  from  Jerusalem 
to  join  their  tears  with  hers,  and  lament  the  death  of 
Lazarus.  Thus  circumstanced,  Martha  dares  not  give 
utterance  to  the  various  feelings  which  agitate  her  soul. 
She  will  not  make  an  open  proclamation  of  the  arrival 
of  Jesus.  The  hostile  edict  of  the  Jews,  (John,  11  :  57,) 
aimed  at  his  liberty,  if  not  his  life,  was  doubtless  the  sub- 
ject of  public  rumor.  However  well  affected  these  2)er- 
8ons  might  be  to  herself  and  her  sister,  either  fear  or 
prejudice  might  have  rendered  them  unfit  to  be  made 
acquainted  with  the  presence  of  Christ.  She  speaks 
therefore  secretly  to  Mary,  "  The  Master  is  come,  and 
•calleth  for  thee." 

That  word  sus2)ends  all  her  sorrows.  She  forgets  all 
other  considerations.  She  suddenly  dej^arts  from  her  as- 
sembled friends  and  hastens  to  the  Redeemer  of  man- 
kind. She  departs — but  not  unattended.  The  zealous 
assiduity  of  those  who  shjii-ed  her  woes  would  not  sufter 
them  to  remain  inactive  when  they  saw  her  rush  for- 
ward, with  eager  haste,  they  knew  not  whither.  Perhaps 
they  dreaded  some  frantic  paroxysm  of  grief — at  least 
they  were  of  opinion  that  she  sought  the  dangerous 
indulgence  of  giving  vent  to  her  passionate  lamentations 


LAZARUS.  441 

at  the  grave  of  her  much-loved  brother.  If  every  eur- 
rouiicling  object,  while  she  remained  in  the  house  of 
mourning,  brought  with  it  a  repetition  of  sorrow — if  the 
scenes  of  their  once  haj^py  society  awakened  every  pain- 
ful sensation,  and  caused  fresh  tears  to  flow — how  would 
she  be  affected  with  insupportable  anguish,  were  she 
rashly  to  intrude  on  the  solemn  mansions  of  the  dead  ! 

The  friends  of  Mary  mistook  her  errand.  While  they 
supposed  that  she  was  going  to  a  dead  brother,  she  re- 
paired to  a  living  Savior.  The  world,  whether  from 
iealousy  or  kindness,  is  too  apt  to  misconstrue  both  the 
actions  and  the  situation  of  the  servants  of  God.  They 
think  them  sorrowful,  when  in  fact  they  are  rejoicing — 
dying,  when  behold  they  live — having  nothing,  while 
they  are  possessing  all  things. 

In  the  true  gesture  of  a  suppliant,  Mary  falls  dovni  at 
the  feet  of  Jesus.  Though  in  the  presence  of  so  many 
witnesses,  some  of  whom  were  prejudiced  beyond  the 
reach  of  conviction  (John,  11  :  46,) — though  well  aware 
that  the  homage  she  paid  was  forbidden  by  the  tyranny 
of  superstition — though  no  less  than  excommunication 
was  denounced  against  all  them  who  confessed  him  to 
Ve  the  Messiah — she  prostrates  herself  and  worships  : 
while  those  bended  knees  and  uplifted  hands  speak  no 
less  plainly  than  the  accents  of  her  sister,  "  Thou  art  the 
Christ,  the  Son  of  God!" 

The  passionate  grief  of  Mary,  the  weeping  of  her 
surrounding  fnends,  and  above  all,  the  cause  of  their  sor- 
row, awaken  our  blessed  Savior  to  the  tenderest  pity — 
"  He  groaned  in  his  spirit,  and  was  troubled."  He 
would  no  longer  delay  that  manifestation  of  his  power 
which  should  turn  this  heaviness  into  joy.  But  ere  he 
can  arrive  at  the  place  where  those  dear  remains  are  de- 
posited, his  own  example  consecrates  those  tears,  which 
are  every  way  compatible  with  the  most  duteous  resig- 
nation. Infidelity  hardens  the  heart,  and  bide  us,  with 
19* 


442  hall's  scripture  history. 

flry  eyes  and  sullen  apathy,  submit  to  the  evils  of  a  rig- 
orous destiny.  The  doctrine  of  Christ  leaves  us  in  full 
possession  of  those  sensibilities  which  are  an  honor,  not 
a  disgrace  to  human  nature.    "  Jesus  wept." 

The  sepulchre  of  Lazarus  was  a  cave,  on  the  top  of 
which  a  massy  stone  had  been  placed  as  a  covering.  He, 
who  by  the  efficacy  of  his  voice  was  about  to  raise  the 
dead,  will  remove  this  obstacle  by  the  ministry  of  other 
hands.  Surrounded  by  busy  and  malignant  enemies,  he 
will  so  work  as  to  give  them  no  oj^portunity  of  cavilling, 
or  charging  him  with  collusion.  The  command  to  re- 
move the  stone  is  seconded  by  an  act  of  omipotent  pow- 
er— and  the  miraculous  proof  of  his  Godhead  is  so  much 
the  more  wondered  at  as  it  was  least  expected. 

We  are  all  buried,  O  Savior,  in  the  grave  of  our  sins. 
The  stone  of  obduracy  must  be  taken  away  from  our 
hearts  before  we  shall  attend  to  thy  reviving  voice — 
then  shall  it  be  heard,  even  in  the  region  of  coiTuption, 
and  we  shall  not  be  exhorted  in  vain,  "Awake,  thou  that 
eleepest,  and  arise  from  the  dead,  and  Christ  shall  give 
thee  hght." 

^  The  faith  which  had  for  a  while  led  the  sister  of  Laza- 
rus even  against  hope  to  believe  in  hope,  now  seems  to 
have  withdrawn  itself  from  her  soul.  Both  her  zealous 
professions  and  the  gracious  words  of  her  Master  are 
vanished  and  forgotten.  Unwilling  to  disturb  the  sacred 
repose  of  death,  she  urges  that  the  body  of  Lazarus,  who 
had  been  dead  four  days,  would  be  noisome  and  pestilen- 
tial. Alas,  how  does  the  weakness  of  our  mortal  nature 
throw  obstacles  in  the  way  of  heavenly  mercy,  and  op- 
pose even  that  power  which  alone  can  rescue  us.  "Said 
I  not  unto  thee,  that  if  thou  wouldst  believe  thou  shouldst 
see  the  glory  of  God]" 

They  who  were  preparing  to  remove  the  stone,  for  a 
time  refrained  from  their  labor — one  while  fixing  their 
eyes  on  Christ,  one  while   on  the  sister  of  Lazarus,  to 


LAZARUS.  443 

hear  what  would  be  the  event  of  so  important  an  objec- 
tion. But  soon  are  they  given  to  understand,  both  by  the 
words  of  our  Savior  and  the  duteous  acquiescence  of  his 
handmaid,  that  in  spite  of  apparent  difficulties  and  discou- 
ragements, the  word  of  God  must  be  obeyed.  The  stone  is 
removed,  and  now  they  behold  him  dead  whom  they  shall 
soon  see  revived.  Eveiy  impediment  is  done  away — all 
are  in  silent  expectation — our  Savior  begins  his  miracle. 

His  eyes  are  raised  to  heaven — thence  he  derives  his 
power — thence  he  expects  and  is  assured  of  success. 
His  tongue  addresses  the  Almighty  by  the  name  of  Fa- 
ther— that  claim  which  his  enemies  judged  to  be  blas- 
phemy worthy  of  death,  is  made  publicly,  before  a  cloud 
of  witnesses — Christ,  as  the  Son  of  God,  gives  thanks  to 
him  that  sitteth  on  the  throne  for  having  granted  his 
heart's  desire  and  fulfilled  all  his  mind.  Psalm  20  :  4. 
Then,  lifting  up  his  voice  with  divine  authority,  he  cries 
aloud,  ''Lazarus,  come  forth!"  O  glorious  representa- 
tion of  that  majestic  sound  wherewith  the  last  trumpet 
shall  address  all  that  sleep,  and  shall  awaken  them  from 
the  dust !  It  is  thy  voice,  O  Savior,  which  we  shall  hear 
sounding  in  the  recesses  of  the  tomb — that  voice  which 
ehall  pierce  the  rocks,  and  divide  the  mountains,  and 
summon  the  dead  from  the  lowest  deeps — that  voice 
whereby  a  world  was  made,  and  whereby  it  shall  be 
dissolved — that  voice  which  called  time  into  being,  and 
which,  when  time  is  no  more,  shall  declare  the  approach 
of  eternity. 

Lo  !  the  almighty  Word  hath  loosed  those  bands 
whereby  the  beloved  Lazarus  was  holden — the  linen 
folds  which,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  Jews,  were 
wrapped  around  his  body,  (together  with  aromatic  spi- 
ces,) are  yet  left  on  him,  that  the  astonished  beholders 
might  see  the  signs  of  death  with  the  proofs  of  life,  and 
that  they  might  be  convinced,  by  iiTefragable  evidence, 
both  of  the  separation  of  his  soul  and  body,  and  of  their 


444  hall's  scripture  iiistorv. 

re-union.  If  the  voice  of  Christ  wa8  thus  powerful 
while  he  remained  in  his  state  of  humility,  how  powerful 
shall  it  be  in  that  awful  day  when  he  shall  return,  with 
majesty  and  glory,  to  judge  the  quick  and  the  dead  !  It 
shall  then  shake  the  canopy  of  heaven,  and  move  the 
foundations  of  the  earth.  Once  it  shook  the  earth — but 
now  lie  hath  promised,  saying,  "  Yet  once  more  I  shake 
not  the  earth  only,  but  also  heaven." 

With  what  salutations,  what  joyful  embraces  did  the 
happy  sisters  of  Lazarus  receive  him  from  his  grave  ! 
What  amazement  was  in  their  looks — what  ecstasy  in 
their  hearts  !  what  adoration  of  that  God  and  Savior  who 
recalled  him  to  life  !  The  surrounding  neighbors  and 
friends  behold  the  mighty  act,  but  with  vai-ious  impres- 
sions of  mind.  Some  of  them  believed  and  confessed  that 
Jesus  was  the  Christ — others  went  their  way  to  the 
Pharisees,  and  by  means  of  his  veiy  miracles  inflamed 
the  rancor  of  his  enemies.  Lord,  when  thy  hand  was 
lifted  up,  they  would  not  see — the  veil  of  prejudice  and 
obduracy  was  on  their  hearts — they  received  not  the  love 
of  the  truth,  that  they  might  be  saved.  In  vain  had 
Moses  said  unto  the  fathers,  "A  Prophet  shall  the  Lord 
your  God  raise  up  unto  you — every  soul  that  will  not 
hear  that  Prophet  shall  be  destroyed  from  among  the 
people."  In  vain  had  all  the  prophets  from  Samuel,  and 
those  that  followed  after,  foretold  the  promised  Messiah. 
They  heard  not  Moses  and  the  prophets — neither  were 
they  persuaded,  though  one  rose  from  the  dead. 


Christ's  entry  into  Jerusalem.  445 


90.— CHRIST'S   ENTRY   INTO  JERUSALEM. 

Never  did  our  Savior  take  so  much  state  upon  him  as 
now,  when  he  was  going  towards  his  passion.  Other 
journeys  he  undertook  without  pomp  or  dignity — this 
with  numerous  attendants  and  loud  acclamation.  Yet 
even  here,  O  Lord,  thou  didst  blend  thine  accustomed 
humility  with  thy  triumphs — Thou,  whose  chariots  are 
twenty  thousand,  even  thousands  of  angels,  (that  the 
Scripture  might  be  fulfilled,)  wouldst,  even  in  this  thy 
royal  progress,  demonstrate  thy  contempt  of  worldly 
magnificence — "  Rejoice  greatly,  O  daughter  of  Zion — 
shout,  O  daughter  of  Jerusalem — ^behold,  thy  King  com- 
eth  to  thee — ^he  is  just,  and  having  salvation — lowly, 
and  riding  upon  an  ass,  and  upon  a  colt,  the  foal  of  an 
ass."  O  blessed  Lord,  thou  who  wert  indeed  the  King 
of  Israel,  wouldst  be  proclaimed  so — but  in  the  very  mo- 
ment of  thy  asserting  thy  just  pretensions,  thou  wouldst 
make  it  appear  that  thy  kingdom  was  not  of  this  world 
— that  the  glories  on  which  the  affections  of  mankind 
are  wont  to  dwell  so  fondly,  were  held  by  thee  in  their 
due  estimation.  The  multitude  alone  are  thine  attend- 
ants— their  homely  garments,  their  green  boughs  are 
spread  in  the  way  before  thee — they  exclaim  with  shouts 
of  joy,  "  Hosanna  to  the  Son  of  David — blessed  is  Ho 
that  Cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  !" 

Where  are  now  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  ]  Where 
are  the  great  rulers  of  the  synagogue,  who  had  declared 
that  whosoever  confessed  that  Jesus  was  the  Christ 
should  be  punished  with  instant  excommunication.  Be- 
hold here  the  bold  and  undaunted  followers  of  the  Mes- 
siah, who  bare  witness  to  him  in  the  presence  of  all 
their  brethren,  at  the  gate  of  the  royal  city.  In  vain  shall 
the  adversaries  of  Christ  attempt  to  suppress  his  glory. 
Sooner  shall  they  veil  the  face  of  the  sun  from  shining 


446  hall's  scripture  history. 

on  the  workl,  llian  withhold  the  beams  of  his  divine  truth, 
by  their  envious  ojoposition,  from  the  eyes  and  hearts  of 
liis  people.  In  S2:)itc  of  all  Jewish  malignity,  his  kingdom 
is  confessed,  is  applauded,  is  blessed. 

O  thou  that  art  fairer  than  the  children  of  men,  in  thy 
majesty  ride  prosperously,  because  of  truth,  and  meek- 
ness and  righteousness.  Full  of  grace  are  thy  lips,  be- 
cause God  hath  blessed  thee  for  ever  ! 

Thus  proclaimed,  thus  accompanied,  our  Savior  enters 
into  the  city  of  Jerusalem — Jerusalem,  noted  of  old  as 
the  residence  of  kings,  of  priests,  of  prophets.  Of  kings, 
for  there  was  the  throne  of  David — of  priests,  for  there 
was  the  temple — of  prophets,  for  there  they  delivered 
their  oracles,  and  their  blood  was  shed.  Thither  would 
Jesus  come  in  his  three-fold  character  as  King,  as  Priest, 
as  Prophet.  Acknowledged  with  hosannas  as  a  King — 
teaching  the  people,  and  foretelling  the  desti'uction  of 
their  city,  as  a  Prophet — and,  as  a  Priest,  taking  posses- 
sion of  his  temple,  and  vindicating  it  fi.T)m  the  foul  profa- 
nations of  Jewish  sacrilege.  Often  had  he  repaired  to  .Je- 
rusalem without  alarming  his  enemies,  because  without 
any  semblance  of  state — now,  when  he  gives  some  little 
glimpse  of  his  royalty, ''  all  the  city  is  moved."  When  the 
eastern  sages  brought  the  first  notice  of  the  King  of  th-e 
Jews,  Herod  was  troubled,  and  all  Jerusalem  with  him — 
the  Kin"-  of  the  Jews  himself  approaches,  and  lo,  a  new 
commotion  !  One  spectator  dra^vs  on  another — the  noise 
iiicreases  with  the  concourse — all  is  fear,  and  anxiety, 
and  expectation.     "  Who  is  this  V 

Was  it  a  question  of  applause,  or  of  contempt,  or  of 
ignorance  1  Doubtless  the  multitude  inquired  seriously, 
from  a  desire  of  information.  Not  that  they  were  unac- 
quainted with  the  person  of  Christ,  whose  doctrine  and 
miracles  had  justly  rendered  him  well  known  amidst  his 
countrymen — but  they  beheld  him  invested  as  it  were 
with  some  new  and  mysterious  character— laying  claim 


CHRIST  S    ENTRY    INTO    JERUSALEM.  447 

to  distinctions  from  which  he  had  hitherto  retired — en- 
couraging and  applauding  the  zealous  acclamations  of  his 
adherents. 

The  attendant  disciples  could  not  be  at  a  loss  for  an  an- 
swer. Which  of  the  prophets  had  not  put  itin  their  mouths? 
"  Who  IS  this?  Ask  Moses,  and  he  shall  tell  you — The 
Seed  of  the  woman  thai  shall  break  the  serpent's  head.  Ask 
our  father  Jacob,  and  he  shall  tell  you — The  ShUohof  the 
tribe  of  Judah.  Ask  David,  and  he  shall  tell  you — The 
King  of  glory.  Ask  Isaiah,  and  he  shall  tell  you — Emanu- 
el—  Wonderful — Comisellor — The  Mighty  God — The  Ev- 
erlasting Father — The  Prince  of  Peace.  Ask  Jeremiah, 
and  he  shall  tell  you — The  Branch  of  David — The  Lord 
our  Righteousness.  Ask  Daniel,  and  he  shall  tell  you — 
The  Messiah.  Ask  Hosea,  and  he  shall  tell  you — The 
Lord  God  of  Hosts — the  Lord  is  his  memorial.  Ask  John 
the  Baptist,  and  he  shall  tell  you — The  Lamb  of  God. 
Ask  the  God  of  the  prophets.  He  hath  told  you,  This  is 
my  beloved  Son,  i?i  ivhom  I  am  tcell  pleased.  Ask  even  the 
powers  of  darkness  themselves — they  have  been  compell- 
ed to  exclaim,  /  kriow  thee  2cho  thou  art,  the  Holy  One  of 
God:'  Gen.  3  :  15  ;  49  :  10  ;  Ps.  24  :  7,  10  ;  Isa.  7:14; 
9:6;  Jer.  23  :  5,  6  ;  Dan.  9  :  25,  26  ;  Hos.  12  :  5  ;  John, 
1  :  36  ;  Mat.  3  :  17  ;  Luke,  4  :  34. 

Among  the  attending  multitudes  some  are  found  v,'hose 
voice,  preventing  that  of  the  disciples,  makes  answer — 
"  This  is  Jesus,  the  prophet  of  Nazareth  in  Galilee." 

Ye  undervalue  your  Master,  O  ye  sincere  but  mista- 
ken followers  of  Christ — the  herald  who  proclaimed  his 
approach  was  himself  more  than  a  prophet.  This  is  no 
other  than  that  God  by  whom  the  prophets  were  both 
Rent  and  inspired.  Not  Nazareth,  but  Bethlehem  was  the 
place  of  his  birth,  the  proof  of  his  tribe,  the  evidence  that 
he  was  the  expected  Messiah.  He  whom  ye  thus  confess- 
ed no  doubt  pardoned  the  defects  of  your  confession.  Ye 
soake  according  to  the  common  rumor  which  was  diffus- 


448  hall's  scripture  history. 

ed  among  llic  people.  The  two  disciples  on  their  way 
to  Emmaus  gave  him  no  other  title.  Their  faith  had  not 
yet  received  its  completion — the  Holy  Spirit  of  God 
had  not  yet  descended  from  heaven  to  teach  them  all 
things.  Even  this  testimony,  imperfect  as  it  was,  found 
favor  with  the  Father  of  mercies.  If  we  make  profession 
of  the  truth,  according  to  the  best  of  our  knowledge, 
though  in  many  things  we  all  offend,  the  goodness  of  God 
endureth  continually — not  judging  us  for  what  we  havo 
not,  but  accepting  us  in  what  we  have.  Shouldst  thou, 
O  Lord,  be  extreme  to  re<]uire  from  us  perfection  of 
knowledge,  O  Lord,  who  could  abide  it  ?  What  would 
be  the  condition  of  those  souls  whose  errors,  not  pro- 
ceeding from  malice,  but  ignorance,  meet  with  pity  and 
forgiveness  at  thy  throne  ?  Blessed  Savior,  how  can  we 
sufficiently  adore  thine  infinite  mercy,  that,  where  thou 
findest  a  diligent  inquiry  after  the  truth  joined  with  an  ho- 
nest simplicity  of  heait,  thou  regardest  not  our  unwilling 
defects,  thou  dcspisest  not  our  well-meant  confessions  ! 

Already  had  the  people  proclaimed  Christ  as  a  King — 
now,  they  declare  him  to  be  a  Prophet.  Why  did  not 
the  Roman  legions  betake  themselves  to  arms  on  the 
former  declaration  ?  Why  did  not  the  scribes  and  Phari- 
sees, and  the  envious  priesthood,  revolt  against  the  lat- 
ter 1  They  had  made  decrees  against  him — they  had  laid 
wait  for  him — they  had  repeatedly  attempted  to  take 
away  his  life — yet  now,  behold,  he  passes  along  through 
the  streets  of  Jerusalem  hailed  as  the  King  and  Prophet  of 
his  people,  witliout  a  shadow  of  opposition  from  his  ene- 
mies. To  what  can  this  be  imputed  but  to  the  powerful 
and  over-ruling  arm  of  his  Godhead  ?  He  who  restrain- 
ed the  rage  and  malice  of  Herod  on  the  first  news  that  a 
King  was  born,  now  restrains  all  the  rulers  of  Jerusalem 
from  lifting  up  their  hand  against  this  last  and  public  ac- 
knowledgment of  the  regal  and  prophetical  office  of 
Christ.    Till  the  Divine  suflerer  himself  consents  to  pour 


nRIST*S    ENTRY    INTO    JERUSALEM.  449 

out  his  soul  unto  death,  in  vain  do  his  adverBaries  take 
counsel  together  to  destroy  the  Lord's  anointed. 

In  this  manner,  O  Savior,  dost  thou  pass  through  the 
streets  of  Jerusalem  to  the  temple — not  to  the  royal 
palace,  not  to  the  **  chief  places  of  concourse,"  but  to  the 
temple.  When  a  j^ious  and  dutiful  son  returns  from  a 
far  country,  whither  does  he  first  betake  himself  but  to 
his  father's  house  1  There  thy  presence,  O  Lord,  v/as 
most  necessary — there  the  fountain  of  truth,  corrupted 
and  poisoned  by  deep  and  dangerous  abuses,  sent  forth 
polluted  streams  into  the  once  holy  city.  Surely  all  good 
or  evil  is  increased  and  strengthened  in  proportion  as  it 
is  connected  with  the  temple.  If  God  have  there  faithful 
servants — if  men  find  there  wholesome  instruction  and 
holy  examples,  the  people  will  not  be  without  benefit. 
The  precious  oil  which  was  poured  on  the  head  of 
Aaron,  descended  to  the  skirts  of  his  garments. 

No  sooner  is  Chiist  aiiived  at  the  house  of  God  than 
ho  begins  the  work  of  Reformation.  That  holy  ground 
was  profaned  by  sacrilegious  traffic — a  public  mart  was 
held  within  the  court  of  that  sacred  place.  The  great 
Lord  of  the  temple  comes  to  vindicate  its  insulted  honor 
— and,  full  of  just  indignation,  drives  out  these  impious 
offenders — casts  dow^n  their  tables — scatters  their  guilty 
heaps — and  sends  away  their  adherents  with  shame  and 
confusion. 

With  what  astonishment  of  mind  did  these  Jews  be- 
hold their  heavenly  Reprover !  How  did  their  con- 
science smite  them  more  than  his  scourge,  while  that 
meek  and  gentle  Savior,  who  came  to  take  our  stripes 
upon  liim,  darted  forth  sacred  vengeance  from  his  eyes, 
and  with  his  uplifted  arm  chastised  their  profanations  ! 
Surely  it  became  thee,  O  Redeemer  of  men,  to  let  the 
world  perceive  that  thou  hadst  not  lost  thy  justice  in  thy 
mercy — that  while  thy  compassion  is  infinite,  thy  severity 
is  awful — that  thou  couldst  thunder  as  well  as  shine. 


450  hall's  scripture  history. 

There  is  a  reverence  due  to  the  house  of  God,  and  to 
the  service  to  which  it  is  dedicated.  Actions  of  a  se- 
cular nature  are  not  fit  for  that  sacred  roof,  much  less 
those  which  are  unhallov/ed  and  profane,  "  Ye  shall 
reverence  my  sanctuary — I  am  the  Lord."  The  cove- 
tousness  of  the  priests,  the  frauds  of  the  money-changers, 
were  an  intolerable  abuse  of  the  temple.  What  but 
holiness  can  become  that  place,  which  is  itself  the 
Beauty  of  Holiness  ] 

"  Behold,  I  will  send  my  messenger,  and  he  shall  pre- 
pare the  way  before  me — and  the  Lord  whom  ye  seek 
shall  suddenly  come  to  his  temple — even  the  messenger 
of  the  covenant,  whom  ye  delight  in  :  behold,  he  shall 
come,  saith  the  Lord  of  Hosts.  But  who  may  abide  the 
day  of  his  coming  1  and  who  shall  stand  when  he  appear- 
etli  I  for  he  is  like  a  refiner's  fire,  and  like  fuller's  soap. 
And  he  shall  sit  as  a  refiner  and  purifier  of  silver — and 
he  shall  purify  the  sons  of  Levi,  and  purge  them  as  gold 
and  silver,  that  they  may  offer  unto  the  Lord  an  offering 
in  righteousness.  Then  shall  the  offering  of  Judah  and 
Jerusalem  be  pleasant  unto  the  Lord,  as  in  the  days  of 
old,  and  as  in  former  years.  And  I  will  come  near  you 
to  judgment,  and  I  will  be  a  swift  witness  against  the 
sorcerers,  and  against  the  adulterers,  and  against  false 
swearers,  and  against  those  that  oppress  the  hireling  in 
his  wages,  the  widow,  and  the  fatherless,  and  that  turn 
aside  the  stranger  from  his  right,  and  fear  not  me,  saith 
the  Lord  of  Hosts." 


CHRIST    BETRAYED.  451 


91.— CHRIST   BETRAYED. 

So  obnoxious  were  Christ  who  raised  Lazarus,  and 
Lazarus  whom  Christ  raised,  to  the  envious  priests,  and 
scribes,  and  elders,  that  they  consult  to  murder  both. 
While  either  of  them  lives,  the  glory  of  that  miracle  can- 
not die,  nor  the  shame  of  its  opponents.  Assembled  in 
the  palace  of  Caiaphas,  they  join  with  one  consent, 
and  are  confederate  against  the  Son  of  God.  Eager  as 
they  are  for  the  destruction  of  the  innocent,  their  pru- 
dence suggests  to  them  that  open  violence  will  be  fruit- 
less. Subtilty  and  treachery  must  do  that  which  would 
be  vainly  attempted  by  power, 

A  fit  instrument  is  speedily  pitched  upon  for  this  ac- 
cursed purpose.  Among  the  chosen  followers  of  Christ 
one  is  found  who  was  in  his  heart  the  servant,  not  of 
God,  but  of  Mammon.  Of  what  arts  is  not  that  soul  ca- 
pable which  is  enslaved  by  the  hateful  power  of  avarice  1 
Judas,  who  heard  Christ  daily,  whom  others  heard  preach 
Christ  daily,  who  witnessed  the  miracles  of  his  Master, 
and  doubtless  shared  those  miraculous  gifts  bestowed  on 
his  companions,  is  first  a  thief,  and  afterwards  a  traitor. 
"  What  will  ye  give  me,  and  I  will  deliver  him  unto  you  ]" 

O  wretched  Judas,  what  will  they,  what  can  they  give 
of  equal  value  with  Him  whom  thou  offerest  as  a  victim 
to  their  malice  ?  Were  they  able  to  pay,  or  thou  to  re- 
ceive, all  the  precious  treasures  of  the  world,  how  were 
this  price  equivalent  to  that  Word  of  God  by  whom 
all  things  were  made  1  Could  they  have  bestowed  on 
thee  the  empire  of  the  universe,  or  given  thee  suj^rema- 
cy  over  the  bright  luminaries  of  heaven,  thy  folly  would 
still  have  kept  pace  with  thy  presumption.  Alas,  what 
had  they,  miserable  men,  to  offer  for  such  a  purchase  1 
The  time  was,  when  he  who  instigated  thee  to  this  trea- 
$on  could  say  to  thy  Master,  "All  the  kingdoms  of  tho 


452  hall's  scripture  hlstory. 

world,  and  the  glory  of  them  arc  mine — all  these  will  I  give 
thee."  Had  he  attempted  to  shake  thy  fidelity  by  a  simi- 
lar proposal  the  base  worldling  might  have  found  some  ex- 
cuse for  thine  apostacy — but  when  we  behold  thee  giving 
up  thy  blessed  Lord  and  vSavior  to  his  enemies  for  thirty 
pieces  of  silver,  we  know  not  whether  more  to  abhor  thy 
treachery  or  to  wonder  at  thine  infatuation. 

The  price  was  not  more  despicable  than  the  undertak- 
ing was  audacious.  Had  all  the  powers  of  hell  combin- 
ed with  their  emissary,  they  could  not  have  delivered  our 
Savior  into  the  hands  of  men.  '*  No  man  taketh  my  life 
from  me,"  saith  Christ,  "  but  I  lay  it  down  of  myself." 
Had  he  been  pleased  to  resist,  his  word  would  at  once 
have  consigned  the  traitor  and  his  accomplices  to  their 
just  punishment.  O  blessed  Lord,  all  our  safety,  all  our 
happiness  depends  not  so  much  upon  thine  act^  as  upon 
thy  will.  In  vain  might  we  expect  benefit  from  thy  pas- 
sion, if  thou  hadst  undergone  that  by  constraint  which 
thou  didst  voluntarily  sustain  for  our  salvation. 

The  compact  is  made — the  price  is  given — Judas  re- 
turns and  with  unblushing  effrontery  looks  on  his  Mas- 
ter and  on  his  companions.  His  heart  told  him  he  was 
false — but  he  was  in  possession  of  the  price  of  blood  !  He 
wa3  not  now^  for  the  first  time  a  hypocrite.  The  pass- 
over  is  at  hand — Judas  is  no  less  diligent  to  make  pre- 
paration for  it,  no  less  ready  to  receive  it,  than  the  most 
faithful  and  zealous  of  the  apostles. 

How  many  proofs  had  this  traitor  received  of  his  Mas- 
ter's omniscience  !  Every  day  afforded  fresh  demonstra- 
tion that  \\w  thoughts  and  intents  of  the  heart  were  un- 
der the  cognizance  of  Christ — nay,  while  Juda^  attempts 
to  conceal  his  baseness,  our  Savior  conceals  not  his  own 
knowledge  of  it.  "  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  that  one  of  you 
ehall  betray  me."  Who  would  not  think  that  wickedness, 
BO  discovered,  would  be  full  of  shame  1  Did  not  Judas 
blush,   and   grow   pale   again,   and   cast  down  his  guilty 


CURI3T    BETRAYED.  453 

eyes,  and  turn  away  his  troubled  countenance  1  Alas,  that 
brow  is  steeled  against  every  generous  feeling ;  that 
heart  knows  neither  pity  nor  repentance.  Could  the  dis- 
ciples have  observed  on  any  countenance  among  their  fel- 
lows  the  least  token  of  confusion,  the  words  of  their  Mas- 
ter would  have  affected  them  with  less  poignant  sorrow — 
now,  rather  thinking  fit  to  distrust  their  own  innocence 
than  their  Master's  assertion,  each  trembles  while  he  in- 
quires, *'  Lord,  is  it  I  ]"  It  is  possible  there  may  lurk 
some  secret  wickedness  in  the  soul,  unsuspected  by  our- 
selves. Whither  may  we  not  be  suffered  to  fall,  if  we 
trust  too  presumptuously  to  our  own  strength  1  It  is  both 
wisdom  and  duty  to  be  ever  on  our  guard,  and  to  examine 
our  hearts  with  the  most  scrupulous  accuracy.  liappy  is 
the  man  who  so  feareth  alway.     "  Lord,  is  it  IV 

Meanwhile,  how  hath  Judas  deceived  his  companions  ! 
Had  his  former  life  been  stamped  with  notorious  wick- 
edness they  would  have  found  an  object  on  which  to  rest 
their  just  suspicions.  Now,  his  past  villany  has  been  so 
studiously  concealed  that  every  one  of  the  apostles  is 
as  ready  to  suspect  himself  as  him  who  was  really  guilty. 
Well  might  the  God  of  all  knowledge  exclaim,  *'  The 
heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things,  and  desperately  wick- 
ed!" Judas  can  hear  the  denunciations  of  judgment 
against  himself — he  can  hear  his  Master  say,  '*  Wo  be 
to  that  man  by  w  hom  the  Son  of  Man  is  betrayed — good 
were  it  for  that  man  if  he  had  never  been  bom,"  and  yet 
he  is  no  more  appalled  than  very  innocence.  He  has 
made  a  covenant  with  death,  and  with  hell  an  agreement, 
O  Judas,  didst  thou  ever  hear  ought  but  truth  from  tlie 
lips  of  thy  divine  reprover  1  canst  thou  distrust  the  cer- 
tainty of  that  dreadful  menace  of  vengeance  1  how  wert 
thou  not  afraid,  after  such  an  intimation,  to  persist  in 
thine  atrocious  purpose  1 

As  if  that  shameless  offender  would  brave  all  accusa- 
tion, and  stifle  all  remorse,  he  too  dares  ask,  "  Master,  is 


4o-i  hall's    SCRIPTUIIE    HISTORY. 

it  I  V  No  disciple  shall  protest  more  loudly  against  this 
crime  than  he  who  fosters  it  in  his  own  Losom.  His  Lord 
knows  him  to  he  a  traitor — he  shall  not  live  to  complain 
— his  brethren  account  him  virtuous — all  is  well,  while 
he  is  well  esteemed.  Reputation  is  all  the  care  of  false 
hearts — not  truth,  not  honor,  not  conscience  :  T^'hile  they 
appear  innocent  to  men,  they  care  not  how  criminal  they 
are  in  the  sight  of  God. 

Had  our  Savior  been  less  perfect  in  knowledge,  a 
Tjuestion  of  this  nature  would  have  led  him  to  doubt  the 
reality  of  his  apostle's  guilt.  Who  could  imagine  that  a 
self-convicted  sinner  would  thus  meet  a  just  accusation  ] 
But  He,  whose  all-piercing  eyes  behold  things  as  they 
are,  not  as  they  seem  to  be,  can  answer  this  bold  inquiry 
with  a  direct  affirmation — "  Thou  hast  said."  Wretched 
Iscariot,  couldst  thou  think  that  thou  wert  able  to  endure 
the  beams  of  that  Sun  which  pervades  the  recesses  of 
thine  heart  ]  Was  it  no-t  sufficient  for  thee  to  be  secretly 
vicious,  unless  thou  contendest  with  an  omniscient  ac- 
cuser ?  Thou  didst  imagine  thy  crime  unknown — to  men 
it  was  so.  Had  thy  Master  been  no  more  than  man,  it 
had  been  unknown  to  him — now  his  knowledjre  arcfues 
him  divine.  How  canst  thou  yet  resolve  to  lift  up  thine 
hand  against  Him  who  knows  thine  offence,  and  can  ei- 
ther prevent  or  avenge  it  ? 

The  words  spoken  by  Christ  to  his  treacherous  a^^ostle 
were  unheard  by  the  guests  around  them — but  the  guilt 
o-f  Judas  shall  soon  be  whispered  to  one  and  kno"\m  by 
all.  Humble  and  penitent  sinners  have  a  claim  on  us  for 
pity  and  concealment.  Shame  is  meet  for  those  who  are 
destitute  of  shame. 

The  zealous  and  impatient  Peter  cannot  rest  under 
the  anguish  of  so  doubtful  a  crimination.  His  breast  is 
tortured  with  suspense  till  he  know  tlie  man.  His  signs 
ask  what  his  voice  dares  not.  The  beloved  disciple  un- 
derstands this  silent  language    and  dares  give  words  to 


CHRIST    BETRAYED.  455 

Peter's  tliouglits.  The  indefinite  assertion  of  treason 
among  the  apostles  affords  sufficient  ground  for  this  in- 
quiry— "  Lord,  who  is  it  ?" 

That  which  was  timorously  demanded,  is  answered 
graciously — '*  He  it  is  to  whom  I  shall  give  a  sop  when 
1  have  dipped  it."  Our  Savior  was  unv/illing  to  name 
the  criminal — but  he  will  point  him  out  by  a  sign  to 
his  anxious  querist.  He  says  not,  "Mark  that  man  on 
whom  I  shall  fi'own — mark  him  on  whom  I  shall  inflict 
some  public  censure  " — he  rather  bestows  on  the  guilty 
parricide  a  token  of  more  than  ordinary  respect  and 
affection.  The  outward  gifts  of  God  are  not  alv/ays 
proofs  of  his  love — riches,  pleasures,  honors  may  be 
either  withholden  from  us  in  mercy,  or  dispensed  in  just 
indignation.  How  groundless  had  been  the  jealousy  of 
that  disciple  who  envying  the  favor  done  to  Judas,  had 
deemed  himself  treated  with  undue  neglect !  So  vain 
are  they  who  measuring  God's  affection  by  temporal 
benefits,  are  ready  to  applaud  successful  wickedness,  and 
grudge  them  their  short-lived  happiness  who  are  incapa- 
ble of  any  better. 

Favors  ill-used  make  the  heart  capable  of  any  evil. 
Judas,  comparing  his  Master's  action  with  the  gestures 
of  Peter,  and  the  recent  conference  (unheard  by  him- 
self) between  Jesus  and  the  son  of  Zebedee,  is  now 
more  irritated  to  perform  what  he  had  wickedly  pro- 
mised. But,  O  Lord,  how  shall  we  find  words  in  which 
to  express  our  sense  of  thy  meekness,  thy  divine  long- 
suffering  1  No  angiy  words  escape  thy  lips  even  when 
addressing  the  most  cruel  of  thine  enemies — "  That  thou 
doest,  do  quickly."  Why  are  we  inflamed  by  our  petty 
wrongs  ]  why  do  we  swell  with  anger  and  fly  to  re- 
venge on  every  occasion,  when  the  gi'eat  Examjjle  of 
all  patience  will  not  revile  even  the  foul  and  bloody 
traitor  1  The  disciples  yet  remain  in  ignorance — they 
know  not  for  what  intent  our  Lord  hastens  the  depar- 


4oG  lIALl/s    SCRIPTUKE    HISTORV. 

turc  of  his  abandoned  conspirator.  The  deed  was  every 
way  villanous  :  but  if  it  must  be  done,  delay  is  only  an 
aggravation  of  misery.  The  innocent  victim,  already 
doomed  to  die,  speaks  as  one  prepared  for  suffering,  and 
meekly  resigns  himself  to  all  the  malice  of  his  enemies. 
That  obdurate  heart  will  not  relent.  The  traitor 
knows  his  way  to  the  palace  of  the  High  Priest,  and 
points  out  the  time,  the  place,  the  manner  in  which  ho 
will  give  effect  to  his  perfidy.  **  Whomsoever  I  shall 
kiss,  that  same  is  he."  Yet  more  hypocrisy  1  Yet  more 
presumption  on  such  unparalleled  lenity  1  Shall  that 
sacred  cheek  be  contaminated  by  thine  unhallowed 
touch  ]  The  tongue  of  him  who  has  agreed  to  sell  his 
Master,  dares  say  '*  Hail ;"  the  lips  which  have  passed 
the  compact  of  his  death,  dare  to  kiss  him  whom  they 
had  covenanted  to  murder.  O  Savior,  the  scourge,  the 
thorns,  the  cross,  the  spear  of  thy  persecutors  were  not 
so  painful,  so  piercing  as  this  kiss  of  Judas.  The  stahs 
of  an  enemy  could  not  be  so  ginevous  as  the  treacherous 
embrace  of  a  disciple. 


92.— THE    AGONY. 

What  a  prelude  do  we  find  to  our  Savior's  passion  ! 
A  liymn  and  an  agony.  A  cheeerful  hymn  and  an 
agony  no  less  sorrowful.  A  hymn  begins,  both  to 
raise  and  to  testify  the  courage  of  the  divine  sufferer — 
an  agony  iolUnvs,  to  show  that  ho  was  truly  sensible  of 
those  extremities  of  pain  and  sorrow  which  he  was  about 
to  endure.  All  the  apostles  (the  perfidious  Judas  ex- 
cepted) bore  their  part  in  tliat  hymn.  It  was  fit  they 
should  all  see  that  heroic  magnanimity  with  which  he 


THE    AGONY.  457 

entered  into  the  lists  with  his  mighty  enemies.  Only 
three  shall  be  allowed  to  be  witnesses  of  his  agony — 
those  chosen  disciples  who  had  seen  his  transfiguration, 
That  sight  had  well  fore-armed  and  prepared  them  for 
the  scenes  which  should  follow.  How  could  they  be  dis- 
heartened at  the  spectacle  of  his  sorrows,  who  had  con- 
templated his  splendid  Majesty  on  Mount  Tabor  1  How 
could  their  faith  and  constancy  be  shaken  by  his  suffer- 
ings, who  had  been  present  at  the  manifestation  of  his 
celestial  radiance,  when  his  face  did  shine  as  the  sun,  and 
his  raiment  was  bright  as  the  light  1  How  could  they 
be  offended  at  seeing  him  encompassed  by  Judas  and 
his  train,  whom  they  had  seen  receiving  homage  from 
Moses  and  Elias  1  How  could  they  be  discouraged  at 
hearing  the  reproaches  of  base  and  slanderous  men, 
when  they  had  heard  the  voice  of  God  bearing  witness 
from  that  excellent  glory,  "  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in 
whom  I  am  well  pleased  1" 

Now  before  the  eyes  of  these  apostles  the  Savior  of 
mankind  is  entering  into  a  dark  cloud  of  anguish — "  He 
began  to  be  sorrowful  and  very  heavy."  Many  anxious 
thoughts  for  those  whom  he  came  to  redeem  had  on  for- 
mer occcisions  been  subdued  by  his  divine  fortitude — at 
last  his  grief  is  too  great  to  be  concealed — "  My  soul  is 
exceeding  sorrowful,  even  unto  death."  Blessed  Lord, 
what  must  thou  have  felt  at  the  moment  of  thy  com- 
plaining 1  Feeble  minds  are  apt  to  bemoan  themselves 
on  slight  occasions — but  that  grief  must  needs  be  violent 
which  causes  a  strong  heart  to  break  forth  into  passion- 
ate lamentation.  Alas,  what  a  word  is  this  for  thee,  the 
Son  of  God,  to  utter !  Where  is  that  Comforter  whom 
thou  didst  promise  to  send  to  others  1  Where  is  thine 
eternal  Father,  the  Father  of  all  mercies  and  God  of  all 
comfort,  in  whose  presence  is  the  fulness  of  joy,  and  at 
whose  right  hand  there  is  pleasure  for  evermore  1  Where 
is   thine  undaunted  resolution,  that  thou  wouldst  walk 

Script.  Hist.  20 


458  hall's  scripture  history. 

tbrougli  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death  without  fear  1 
O  Lord,  thou  couldst  not  thus  have  suffered,  had  not  the 
face  of  thy  God  been  for  a  while  withdra\>Ti  from  thee, 
that  thou  mightest  "  tread  the  wine-2:>res3  alone." 

But  to  whom  dost  thou  reveal  thy  sorrows,  O  Savior 
of  mankind  ?  Hard  is  the  lot  of  him  who  must  resort  for 
support  to  his  inferiors.  Had  Peter,  or  James,  or  John 
uttered  such  a  lamentation  to  thee,  they  would  at  once 
liave  found  rest  to  their  souls — thou  wouldst  have  been 
both  ready  to  show  compassion  and  able  to  afford  relief 
But  now,  while  thou  makest  thy  lamentation  to  them,  what 
issue  dost  thou  expect  1  They  might  be  astonished  and 
filled  with  horror  at  thy  grief,  but  they  had  no  power  to 
give  thee  assistance,  or  even  to  mitigate,  while  they 
shared,  thy  wo.  Indeed,  what  could  all  the  angels  of 
heaven,  of  themselves,  do  to  succor  thee  1  What  strength 
could  they  have  but  from  thee  1  What  creature  can 
help  when  thou  complainest  1 

The  venerable  Simeon  prophesied  to  thy  blessed  moth- 
er, that  a  sword  should  pierce  through  her  soul.  How 
many  swords  in  one  moment  pierced  through  thine, 
when  thou  criedst  out,  "  My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful 
even  unto  death  ]"  It  was  not  thy  body  that  suffered 
now — yet  thou  who  wert  best  acquainted  with  the  nature 
of  thy  sorrows,  declarest  thyself  not  only  assaulted,  but 
possessed,  by  grief — grief  so  vehement  as  to  be  without 
relaxation,  and  as  it  were  without  remedy — exceeding 
sorrotcful  unto  death. 

O  blessed  Savior,  what  was  it,  what  could  it  be,  which 
thus  lay  heavy  on  thy  divine  soul  1  Was  it  that  thou 
didst  fear  to  die  1  Was  it  that  thou  didst  shrink  with 
liorror  from  the  pain,  and  shame,  and  torment  of  thine 
approaching  crucifixion  ?  O  poor  and  base  thoughts  of 
weak  and  impotent  mortality  !  How  many  thousands  of 
thy  blessed  martyrs  have  welcomed  no  less  exquisite  tor- 
tures with  smiles  and  congratulations  ?  how  many  have 


THE    AGONY.  459 

triumphed  in  the  midst  of  those  sufferings  which  their 
very  persecutors  thought  were  intolerable  1  If  their 
weakness  was  thus  undaunted,  and  could  thus  prevail, 
how  could  thy  power  fail  of  the  victory  1  No — it  was 
the  grievous  weight  of  the  sin  of  a  guilty  world — it  was 
the  burden  of  thy  Father's  wrath  in  consequence  of  that 
sin,  which  thus  pressed  upon  thy  soul,  and  wrung  from 
thee  these  affecting  lamentations. 

What  can  it  avail  thee,  O  Savior,  to  tell  thy  grief  to 
man  ]  Who  can  afford  thee  succor,  but  He  of  whom 
(speaking  in  thy  human  character)  thou  saidst,  "  My 
Father  is  greater  than  I  V  Lo,  to  Him  thou  hast  re- 
course. "O  my  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  remove  this 
cup  from  me !" 

Was  not  this  the  prayer,  blessed  Lord,  which  in  the 
days  of  thy  flesh  thou  offeredst  up,  with  strong  crying 
and  tears,  unto  Him  that  was  able  to  save  thee  from 
death  1  Never  was  any  voice  so  strong — never  was  God 
80  solicited.  O  thou  who  saidst,  "  I  and  my  Father  are 
One,"  dost  thou  suffer  ought  from  thy  Father  but  what 
thou  hadst  consented,  hadst  determined  to  suffer  ?  Was 
this  cup  placed  in  thy  hands  by  accident  or  by  compul- 
sion 1  Away  with  these  mistaken  suppositions  of  igno- 
rance and  frailty.  Thou  camest  to  suffer,  and  thou  wouldst 
do  what  thou  camest  for.  But  since  thou  wert  willing  to 
embrace  the  whole  of  our  human  nature,  sin  only  except- 
ed— since  it  is  human  and  not  sinful  for  the  heart  to  recoil 
at  suffering — thou  wouldst  both  show  what  the  nature 
which  thou  hadst  assumed  would  be  inclined  to  wish,  and 
what,  in  regard  to  the  salvation  of  mankind,  thou  hadst 
deliberately  fixed  on.    "Not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou  wilt  !"^ 

While  thy  mind  was  thus  agitated  by  varied  emotions, 
no  marvel  if  thy  feet  were  not  fixed — thy  place  is 
changed,  but  not  thy  thoughts — now  thou  awakenest  the 
vigilance  of  thy  disciples — now  thou  retumest  to  thy 
ardent  prayer.    Again  thou  art  prostrate  on  thy  face — . 


460  hall's  scripture  history. 

thy  soul  as  well  as  thy  body  is  brought  low,  even  to  the 
earth — it  cleaveth  to  the  dust.  As  thy  soitows  increase, 
so  doth  the  vehemence  of  thy  supplication — "  Being  in 
an  agony,  he  prayed  more  earnestly — and  his  sweat  was, 
as  it  were,  great  drops  of  blood  falling  down  to  the 
ground."  O  thou  Lover  of  souls,  what  pain,  what  fear, 
what  strife,  what  horror  was  in  thy  sacred  breast !  How 
didst  thou  struggle  under  the  burden  of  our  offences 
while  thou  wert  encountering  the  indignation  of  heaven 
in  our  behalf !  Till  thou  earnest  to  take  our  human  na- 
ture, all  was  peace  with  thee — thou  wert  one  with  thy  co- 
eternal  Father — all  the  angels  worshipped  thee — all  the 
powers  of  heaven  and  earth  acknowledged  thy  supreme 
dominion.  It  was  thy  condition  as  man,  which  exposed 
thee  to  this  misery  and  tonnent.  In  that,  thou  didst  sus- 
tain thy  Father's  wrath.  If  eternal  death  be  intolerable — 
if  every  sin  deserve  eternal  death — what  were  those  suf- 
ferings which  in  one  tremendous  hour  made  atonement 
for  a  guilty  world  !  Teach  us,  oh  teach  us  to  abhor  our 
own  wickedness — to  admire  and  to  bless  thy  mercy. 

But,  O  ye  glorious  spirits  who  came  to  comfort  the 
Savior  of  mankind  in  his  agony,  how  did  ye  look  upon 
the  Son  of  God  when  ye  saw  him  in  this  severity  of 
conflict !  With  what  astonishment  did  ye  behold  the 
object  of  your  adorations  thus  **  acquainted  with  grief!" 
In  the  wilderness,  after  he  had  been  assaulted  by  Satan, 
ye  came  and  ministered  unto  him — and  now,  after  a  hard- 
er combat,  ye  appear  to  strengthen  him.  O  marvellous 
dispensation  of  the  Almighty — an  angel  shall  relieve  him 
whom  God  doth  afflict.  The  Son  shall  suffer — the  ser- 
vant shall  bring  consolation.  The  God  of  angels  is  over- 
'  whelmed  with  sorrow — the  angel  of  God  appears  unto 
him,  strengthening  him. 

Blessed  Jesus,  if  as  a  man  thou  wouldst  be  made  a 
little  lower  than  the  angels,  it  could  not  dishonor  thee  to 
be  attended  and  comforted  by  an  angel.     Thine  humility 


PETER   AND    MALCHUS.  461 

would  not  have  disdained  relief,  however  administered — 
thy  God  pours  balm  into  thy  wounds,  as  seemeth  good 
in  his  sight.  Behold,  though  thy  cup  shall  not  pass  from 
thee,  its  bitterness  shall  be  diminished — though  thou  see 
not  the  face  of  thy  Father,  the  hand  of  his  mercy  is  upon 
thee — what  could  that  spirit  have  done  but  under  the 
sanction  of  the  God  of  spirits  1  O  Father  of  mercies,  thou 
mayest  bring  thy  servants  into  agony,  but  thou  wilt  not 
give  them  over  unto  despair.  "Whatever  are  the  means 
of  our  support,  we  acknowledge  and  adore  the  Author. 
*'  In  the  multitude  of  my  thoughts  within  me,  thy  com- 
forts delight  my  soul," 


93.— PETER  AND   MALCHUS. 

Alas,  what  broken  reeds  are  menl  While  our  Savior 
is  in  his  agony,  the  apostles  are  sleeping,  as  in  a  moment 
of  the  most  profound  tranquillity.  Admonitions,  threaten- 
ings.  entreaties,  cannot  induce  them  to  watch  one  hour 
with  their  suffering  Master.  While  he  tells  them  of 
danger,  they  think  of  ease — and  though  twice  awakened, 
return  to  their  slumber.  O  Lord,  what  consolation  was 
afforded  thee  by  these  thy  followers  1  The  sincerity  of 
their  intentions  was  rendered  ineffectual  by  the  preva- 
lence of  mortal  infirmity.  In  the  mount  where  thou 
wert  transfigured  they  were  overwhelmed  with  amaze- 
ment— and  now  in  the  hour  of  thine  agony  they  are  lost 
in  sleep,  when  they  should  compassionate  thy  sufferings. 

Doubtless  even  this  disregard  made  thy  prayers  more 
fer^-ent.  The  less  comfort  we  meet  with  on  earth,  the 
more  we  seek,  the  more  we  find  above.  Thou,  O  Sa- 
vior, "  wert  heard  in  that  thou  fearedst."    An  angel  sup- 


462  hall's  scripture  history. 

plies  what  was  deficient  through  the  weakness  of  men. 
That  spirit  was  vigilant  while  thy  disciples  slept.  Thou 
couldst  not  but  be  benefited  by  the  exchange. 

No  sooner  is  this  good  angel  departed  than  the  son  of 
perdition  appears.  Judas  shows  himself  at  the  head  of 
his  band  of  ruffians.  The  remorseless  traitor,  who  had  so 
long  followed  his  blessed  Master,  affects  to  be  the  leader 
of  these  barbarous  assailants — still  he  mixes  hypocrisy 
with  villany — his  very  salutations  and  kisses  murder. 
Even  now,  O  Lord,  (while  the  audacious  sinner  by  hia 
enormities  crucifies  thee  afresh,)  the  false  pretender  to 
religion  betrays  thee.  All  who  under  a  show  of  godliness 
practise  impiety — all  who  honor  thee  with  their  lips, 
while  their  hearts  are  far  from  thee,  walk  in  the  steps  of 
the  apostate  Judas,  and  follow  his  example. 

Who  can,  without  the  liveliest  emotions,  hear  the  gi'a- 
cious  words  of  the  Lamb  of  God  to  his  rebellious  disci- 
ple ?  "  Friendy  wherefore  art  thou  come  V  As  yet, 
Judas,  it  was  not  too  late.  Had  one  spark  of  grace  re- 
mained in  thy  perfidious  bosom,  that  word  had  brought 
thee  on  thy  knees.  But  all  this  sunshine  cannot  melt  an 
obdurate  heart.  The  sign  is  given :  Jesus  is  taken. 
Wretched  traitor,  why  wouldst  ihou  for  this  purpose  be 
so  attended  ]  Why  was  such  a  band  so  armed,  employed 
against  the  Lord  of  life  1  Had  our  Savior  refused  to 
obey,  all  the  forces  of  the  world,  all  the  powers  of  hell 
had  been  insufficient ;  and  since  he  was  ready  to  be  deliv- 
ered up  into  the  hands  of  sinners,  there  was  no  need  of 
an  hostile  multitude.  When  he  said,  "  I  am  he,"  that 
breath  alone  routed  all  the  troops,  and  cast  them  to  the 
earth.  What  if  he  had  said,  "  I  will  not  be  taken," 
where  had  they  been  1  or  what  could  their  swords  and 
staves  have  done  against  omnipotence  ? 

The  disciples  who  had  failed  of  their  vigilance,  fail  not 
of  their  courage.  They  had  heard  their  Master  speak  of 
providing  weapons,  and  now  they  thought  it  was  time  to 


PETER    AND    MALCHUS.  463 

use  them — "  Lord,  shall  we  smite  1"  But  Peter,  instead 
of  opening  his  lips,  unsheaths  his  sword — instead  of 
waiting  for  permission,  smites.  He  had  noted  Malchus, 
a  servant  of  the  high  priest,  too  ready  to  second  Judas 
and  to  raise  his  sacrilegious  hand  against  the  Savior  of 
mankind.  On  a  sudden  his  indignation  rises  and  his  arm 
is  lifted  up.  That  ear  which  had  officiously  listened  to 
the  unjust  arid  cruel  charge  of  a  wicked  traitor,  is  now 
severed  from  the  head  of  this  audacious  offender. 

I  love  and  honor  thy  zeal,  O  blessed  disciple.  Thou 
couldst  not  endure  the  wrong  done  to  thy  divine  Master. 
Had  thy  life  been  dearer  to  thee  than  his  safety,  thou 
wouldst  not  have  drawn  thy  sword  upon  a  whole  troop. 
It  was  in  the  sincerity  of  thine  heart  (notwithstanding 
the  sad  events  which  followed)  that  thou  hadst  aveiTed, 
**  Though  all  men  should  be  offended,  yet  will  not  I — 
though  I  should  die  with  thee,  yet  will  I  not  deny  thee." 
But  wherefore  didst  thou  not  rather  attack  the  miscreant 
who  betrayed  thy  Lord,  than  the  stranger  who  arrested 
liim  ?  Were  not  the  head  and  heart  which  devised  this 
atrocious  mischief  more  culpable  than  the  hand  which 
executed  it '?  Was  not  the  treason  of  a  friend  more  odi- 
ous than  the  hostility  of  an  hireling  ]  Or  was  it  that  the 
guilty  wretch,  after  the  perpetration  of  his  crime,  shroud- 
ed himself  under  the  wings  of  darkness  ? — that  thou 
couldst  not  at  once  comprehend  the  extent  of  his  villany'? 
— that  thou  couldst  not  instantly  be  roused  to  indignation 
against  him  who  had  been  thy  companion,  thine  equal, 
and  thine  own  familiar  friend  1  Whatever  were  thy 
motives,  the  act  itself  meets  with  reproof  from  that  inno- 
cent Sufferer  in  whose  defence  thou  vvert  thus  insensible 
of  danger.  "  Put  up  again  thy  sword  into  its  place — for 
all  they  that  take  the  sword,  shall  perish  by  the  sword." 
Good  intentions  will  not  give  a  sanction  to  intemperate 
rashness.  The  God  whom  we  serve  can  at  once  accept 
our  m.eaning  and  censure  our  act.    Could  there  be  an 


464  hall's   scripture  history. 

object  more  worthy  of  zealous  affection  than  such  a  Mas- 
ter 1  Could  there  be  a  more  just  cause  wherein  to  be 
prodigal  of  life  1  Yet  this  love,  this  cause  cannot  exempt 
Peter  from  the  gentle  correction  of  his  Lord. 

When  the  Prince  of  Peace  bade  his  followers  sell 
their  garments  and  buy  a  sword,  he  meant  to  insinuate 
the  danger,  not  the  method  of  averting  it.  "When  they 
therefore  replied,  **  Behold,  here  are  tico  swords,"  he 
answered,  **  It  is  enough."  If  he  had  actually  intended 
to  arm  them  in  his  defence,  many  more  would  have  been 
necessary.  If  he  would  be  led  as  an  unresisting  victim 
to  the  slaughter,  the  zeal  of  Peter  is  superfluous — "  Put 
up  thy  sword."  There  is  a  temporal  sword ;  and  he 
who  bears  it,  bears  it  not  in  vain  :  for  he  is  ordained  to 
be  an  avenger,  thatM^rath  maybe  executed  on  evil-doers. 
But  wo  to  him  who  draws  it  without  just  authority, 
without  lawful  commission  from  above !  No  mars-el  if 
they  who  so  take  the  sword  should,  by  a  just  retribution, 
perish  by  the  sword.  **  Thou  hast  zeal,  O  my  faithful 
servant,  but  not  according  to  knowledge.  Thine  act  is 
not  only  inconsiderate,  but  dangerous.  The  cup  ichich 
my  Father  hath  given  me,  shall  I  not  drink  it  ?  Thou 
drawest  thy  sword  to  rescue  me  from  suffering.  Alas,  if 
I  suffer  not,  what  would  become  of  thee  1  what  would 
become  of  mankind  ]  how  would  effect  be  given  to  that 
eternal  purpose,  whereby  I  am  a  Lamb  slain  from  the 
beginning  of  the  world  "?  Wilt  thou  hinder  thine  own 
salvation,  and  that  of  all  others,  to  the  end  of  time  ? 
Hast  thou  forgotten  the  rebuke  given  thee  on  a  former 
occasion,  when  thou  didst  suggest  to  me  this  immunity 
from  my  passion  1  Mat.  16  :  23,  and  wilt  thou  attempt 
a  real  opposition  to  this  great  and  necessary  work  ] 
Canst  thou  imagine  that  this  suffering  of  mine  is  not  al- 
together free  and  voluntary  ?  Canst  thou  think  that  I 
yield,  as  having  no  means  of  resistance  ?  Have  not  I  giv- 
en to  thee,  and  to  the  world,  the  most  undeniable  proofe 


PETER    AND    MALCHUS.  465 

of  my  omnipotence  t  Even  now  hast  thou  seen  the  pow- 
erful efficacy  of  one  word  from  my  lips  on  these  weak  as- 
sailants. At  this  moment,  were  I  to  ask  aid  of  my  Father, 
all  the  glorious  angels  of  heaven  would  leave  their  thrones 
for  my  rescue.  Could  this  accord  with  the  justice  of  my 
decree,  with  the  glory  of  my  mercy,  with  the  benefit  of 
man's  redemption,  it  would  be  done — my  power  would 
triumph  over  the  impotent  malice  of  my  enemies.  But 
now,  as  that  decree  must  be  accomplished,  as  that  mercy 
must  be  approved,  as  mankind  must  be  ransomed,  as  all 
this  cannot  be  done  without  my  suffering,  thy  well-meant 
valor  is  no  other  than  a  wrong  to  thyself,  to  the  world,  to 
me,  to  my  Father." 

While  thou  rebukest  the  zeal  of  thy  disciple,  O  Lord, 
thou  dost  at  the  same  time  interpose  for  his  presei-^^ation. 
Though  he  hath  smitten,  he  is  unwounded — though  his 
arm  hath  caused  blood  to  flow  from  thine  enemy,  he  re- 
ceives no  return  of  violence  from  that  band  of  ruffians. 
It  was  thy  power  which  restrained  their  rage — thy 
gracious  interposition    which  prevented  their  revenge. 

Meanwhile,  how  does  thine  example  as  well  as  thy 
doctrine  teach  us  the  forgiveness  of  injuries  !  O  thou 
compassionate  Savior,  many  greater  wonders  hadst  thou 
wrought — none  which  exhibited  more  mercy,  more  divine 
meekness,  than  this  thy  last  miracle  of  healing — none 
which  more  loudly  proclaimed  thy  gracious  clemency,  thy 
goodness  to  thy  very  enemies.  Wherefore  came  this  man 
but  in  a  hostile  manner  to  deprive  thee  of  life  or  liberty  ? 
What  pretensions  could  the  ser\'ant  of  Caiaphas  make  to 
favor  ]  Had  hg^not  been  foremost  among  thine  assail- 
ants, how  would  he  have  met  the  sword  of  thine  apostle  ? 
Yet  now,  encircled  by  the  throng  of  thine  apprehenders, 
while  their  malice  and  violence  were  at  their  height, 
while  thou  wert  in  instant  peril  of  death,  thou  healest 
that  ear  which  had  refused  to  hearken  to  thine  instructive 
voice — which  had  listened  eagerly  to  the  blasphemy  of 

20* 


466  hall's  scripture  history. 

the  multitucle,  while  they  conspired  to  take  away  thy  life. 
O  Malchus,  is  not  thine  heart  broken  with  remorse  for 
having  meditated  evil  against  one  endued  with  so  much 
power  and  goodness  1  Wilt  thou  devise  further  mischief 
against  him  1  Wilt  thou  not  acknowledge  his  omnipo- 
tence and  magnify  his  tender  mercies  ]  Can  thy  com- 
panions behold  a  spectacle  like  this  with  relentless 
hearts  1  Unthankful  Malchus  and  cruel  soldiers,  ye  will 
not  abandon  your  execrable  purpose.  Steeled  against 
pity,  remorse,  conviction,  ye  persist  in  your  bloody  en- 
terprise— ye  accomplish  your  hoixible  design.  "  They 
that  had  laid  hold  on  Jesus  led  him  away." 


94.— CHRIST   BEFORE    CAIAPHAS. 

The  traitor  Judas,  who  soon  after  terminated  his 
crimes  by  a  miserable  suicide,  gave  this  charge  concern- 
ins:  his  blessed  Master — *'  Hold  him  fast."  Fear  makes 
his  guard  cmel  :  they  bind  their  innocent  prisoner,  and 
think  no  manacles  strong  enough  for  this  mighty  adver- 
sary. Behold  those  hands  which  made  ^jeaven  and  earth 
wrung  together  and  bruised  with  those  merciless  cords — 
behold  Him  bound  who  came  to  restore  us  to  the  liberty 
of  the  children  of  God — behold  the  Lord  of  Life  contemp- 
tuously dragged  through  the  streets  of  Jerusalem  to  An- 
nas, to  Caiaphas,  to  Pilate,  to  Herod,  wTUIe  the  base  and 
inconstant  multitude  follow  him  with  expressions  of  insult 
and  contumely  !  The  act  of  death  has  not  in  it  so  much 
misery  and  horror  as  the  pomp  of  death. 

But  what  needed  all  this  pageant  of  cruelty  1  Where- 
fore this  lingering  of  an  unjust  execution  1  Was  it  that 
their  malice  thought  a  quick  despatch  too  great  mercy  t 


CHRIST    BEFORE    CAIAPHAS.  467 

Was  it  that  while  they  meant  to  be  bloody  they  would 
seem  to  be  equitable  ]  A  sudden  violence  would  have 
been  evidently  murderous  :  now  the  color  of  a  legal  pro- 
cess seems  to  conceal  their  deep  malignity — seems  to 
render  them  honorable,  and  the  accused  guilty. 

This  seizure  of  our  Lord  was  effected  in  its  proper 
hour — a  deed  of  so  much  darkness  was  not  for  the  liglit. 
It  is  now  resolved  that  he  shall  die  ;  and  now  pretences 
are  sought  that  he  may  appear  worthy  of  death.  The 
priests,  and  scribes,  and  elders  are  foremost  in  this  atro- 
cious act — they  have  paid  the  price  of  his  blood,  and  they 
look  on  Jesus  as  their  own.  The  convention  is  held  in 
the  hall  of  Caiaphas.  False  witnesses  are  sought  for  and 
receive  their  instructions.  What  safety  can  innocence 
find  where  the  evidence  is  thus  wilfully  corrupted  ] 
What  state  was  ever  so  pure  as  not  to  afford  some  mis- 
creants who  would  barter  their  conscience  for  gold  ? 
Yet  even  so  the  accusers  of  Jesus  agree  not,  but  shame 
themselves  and  their  suborners.  God  hath  set  a  mark 
upon  falsehood — he  hath  stigmatized  it  with  dissonance 
and  distraction.  Blessed  Savior,  w^hat  purity  was  in  thy 
doctrine,  .w];iat  holiness  in  thy  life,  that  malice  itself, 
when  it  sought  thy  destruction,  could  not  so  much  as  de- 
vise what  to  slander  ! 

At  last  two  false  witnesses  are  found,  whose  testimony 
is  less  incongi'uous  and  contradictory  to  itself — "  This 
fellow  said,  I  am  able  to  destroy  the  temple  of  God,  and 
to  build  it  in  three  days."  And  were  these  the  words 
which  proceeded  from  his  sacred  lips  1  He  spake  of  a 
temple — of  destroying — of  building — of  three  days  ;  but 
he  spake  of  the  temple  of  his  body  :  in  the  figurative  lan- 
guage  of  prophecy  he  fore-shadowed  his  death  and  his 
resun-ection — he  spake  of  his  conflict,  and  his  victory. 
The  words  were  his — the  construction  yours  ;  the  words 
were  true — the  evidence  false  and  slanderous. 

Where  the  resolution  is  previously  taken,  any  pretence 


468  hall's  scripture  history. 

will  be  sufficient  to  carry  it  into  effect.  Had  those  words 
been  spoken,  as  it  was  suggested,  they  contained  no 
crime — had  he  been,  as  they  supposed  him,  a  mere  man, 
the  speech  had  carried  a  semblance  of  ostentation,  no 
semblance  of  blasphemy.  Yet  how  vehement  is  Caia- 
phas  for  an  answer !  as  if  that  hallowed  pile  had  already 
suffered  sacrilegious  violence  :  as  if  our  Lord  had  rashly 
assailed  the  temple  and  Him  that  dwelleth  therein. 

That  infinite  wisdom  well  knew  how  little  satisfaction 
there  could  be  in  his  reply,  where  the  sentence  was  de- 
termined. *'  Jesus  held  his  peace."  Where  the  ques- 
tioner is  unworthy,  the  question  captious,  the  tendency 
of  it  malicious,  the  best  answer  is  silence. 

When  our  Lord  stood  before  the  cruel  Annas,  his 
sacred  cheek  was  smitten  for  his  just  and  moderate  re- 
ply— now  his  silence  is  no  less  displeasing.  Caiaphas 
was  crafty  as  well  as  rancorous.  What  was  in  vain  at- 
tempted by  false  witnesses,  shall  be  accomplished  by 
means  of  the  prisoner  himself — a  solemn  adjuration  shall 
make  it  unnecessary  to  have  recourse  to  the  testimony 
of  accusers.  **  I  adjure  thee  by  the  living  God  that  thou 
tell  us  whether  thou  be  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God."  O 
Caiaphas,  thy  lips  are  unhallowed,  but  thy  charge  is 
dreadful.  Now,  if  Jesus  hold  his  peace,  he  incurs  the 
guilt  of  disregarding  that  awful  name — if  he  speak,  he  is 
ensnared.  An  affinuation  is  death — a  denial,  worse  than 
death.  Now  then  shalt  thou  leara  that  it  was  not  fear 
which  had  closed  that  gracious  mouth.  He  who  hath 
charged  us  to*  confess  him  before  men,  will  not  refuse  to 
confess  himself — "Jesus  saith  unto  him,  Tliou.  hast  said." 

There  is  a  time  to  keep  silence,  and  a  time  to  speak — 
Christ,  the  wisdom  of  God,  hath  given  us  an  example  of 
both.  We  must  not  so  speak  as  to  give  advantage  to 
cavils — we  must  not  be  so  silent  as  to  betray  the  truth. 
Proud  and  insulting  Caiaphas,  no  longer  shalt  thou  com- 
plain of  a  speechless  prisoner  :   thou  shalt  liear  more 


CHRIST    BEFORE    CAIAPHAS.  469 

than  thou  demandest.  "  Hereafter  shall  ye  see  the  Son 
of  Man  sitting  on  the  right  hand  of  power,  and  coming 
in  the  clouds  of  heaven."  There  spake  the  Messiah — 
the  voice  of  God,  and  not  of  man.  The  Son  of  Man, 
whom  thou  seest  arraigned  before  thy  consistorial  seat, 
is  the  Son  of  God,  whom  thou  shalt  hereafter  behold,  to 
thine  unutterable  confusion,  sitting  in  majesty  on  the 
throne  of  heaven,  attended  with  thousands  of  glorious 
angels,  and  coming  in  the  clouds  to  that  dreadful  judg- 
ment, when  profane  and  remorseless  hypocrites  shall 
stand  before  his  just  tribunal,  and  receive  the  recom- 
pense due  to  their  crimes. 

The  design  of  Caiaphas  is  answered.  Now,  in  an  af- 
fected zeal  for  the  honor  of  religion,  he  rends  his  gar- 
ments at  the  words  of  Christ.  Certain  of  the  applause 
and  support  of  those  around  him,  he  addresses  them  as 
one  jealous  for  the  insulted  majesty  of  God.  "  What 
further  need  have  we  of  witnesses  1  Behold  now  ye  have 
heard  his  blasphemy.  What  think  ye  f  And  they  an- 
swered and  said,  "  He  is  guilty  of  death." 

What  indignities  can  be  too  great  for  him  Avho  is  de- 
clared worthy  to  die  ]  Now,  O  blessed  Lord,  is  the  fury 
of  thy  malignant  enemies  let  loose  upon  thee.  Now  is 
thy  face  defiled  with  their  spittle-'— now  their  cruel  hands 
are  lifted  up  to  buffet  thy  cheek — now  scorn  and  insult 
trample  upon  thy  humble  patience.  "  Prophesy  unto  us, 
thou  Christ — who  is  he  that  smote  thee  V  The  predic- 
tions of  thy  lamentable  passion  are  literally  fulfilled. 
Well  spake  the  Holy  Ghost  of  thee  by  the  mouth  of 
Esaias,  "  He  was  despised  and  rejected  of  men,  a  man 
of  sorrows,  and  acquainted  with  grief — for  the  transgres- 
sion of  my  people  was  he  smitten."  Thou  art  buffeted, 
O  Lord,  in  whose  mouth  was  no  guile — thou  art  con- 
demned, who  canst  alone  absolve  the  world. 

But,  O  gracious  and  merciful  Redeemer,  how  can  we 
sufficiently  adore  the  wonders  of  thy  love,  who  in  the 


470  hall'6  scripture  history. 

midst  of  all  these  scenes  of  barbarity  couldst  vouchsafe 
to  cast  an  eye  of  pity  on  thy  frail,  thy  fallen  apostle  ! 
When  that  murderous  band  apprehended  thee,  thou 
didst  forget  thine  own  danger,  and  warn  him  against  the 
effects  of  intemperate  and  furious  zeal — now,  in  the 
midst  of  thine  arraignment  and  condemnation,  thou  dis- 
regardest  thy  personal  sufferings,  to  reclaim  him  from 
more  grievous  errors — and  by  that  seasonable  look,  to 
strike  his  heart  with  salutary  contrition.  He  who  lately 
was  so  intrepid  as  to  hazard  his  life  in  thy  defence,  now 
shrinks  from  the  imputation  of  being  thy  disciple — he 
who  had  not  been  daunted  with  the  sight  of  a  hostile 
troop,  is  at  once  deprived  of  courage  by  a  word.  Thou 
didst  foreshow  his  danger,  and  by  thine  admonition  didst 
aggravate  his  offence.  The  stone  at  which  he  stumbled 
was  previously  pointed  out  to  him  by  thy  wisdom  and 
mercy.  How  loud  were  his  declarations,  that  though  he 
should  die  with  thee,  he  would  not  deny  thee  '?  Had  he 
received  that  too  necessary  caution  with  trembling 
silence,  his  fall  had  been  less  shameful  and  dangerous. 
Good  purposes,  when  they  are  abandoned,  serve  only  to 
augment  the  guilt  and  sorrow  of  the  offender. 

O  Peter,  whence  this  vehement  and  peremptory  de- 
nial of  thy  blessed  Master  1  What  danger  had  attended 
on  thy  public  profession  of  thine  adherence  to  him  ?  One 
of  thy  companions  was  known  to  the  high-priest  as  a 
follower  of  Jesus — yet  he  not  only  came  into  the  assem- 
bly where  his  innocent  Master  was  declared  worthy  of 
death,  but  procured  thy  subsequent  admission.  They 
that  kept  the  door  knew  him  to  be,  what  he  affected  not 
to  conceal — they  therefore  address  thee  with  confidence 
— "  Art  not  thou  aho  one  of  this  man's  disciples  1"  What 
accusatif»n  was  brought  against  thine  associate  ?  What 
danger  did  he  incur  ]  Whence  arose  thy  fear  and  con- 
sternation 1  Was  it  that  thou  wert  apprehensive  of  pun- 
ishment   by  means    of  the    late-wounded    Malchus,    his 


CHRIST    BEFORE    PILATE.  471 

friends,  or  kinsman'?-  Didst  tliou  despair  of  assistance 
from  thy  Lord  now  standing  at  the  tribunal  of  his  arro- 
gant enemies  ]  To  avoid  the  imputation  of  too  much 
zeal,  dost  thou  renounce  all  knowledge  of  him  for  whom 
that  zeal  had  been  exerted  ] 

Be  this  as  it  may,  thy  sin  was  heinous.  I  tremble  at 
the  fall  of  such  an  apostle.  It  was  thou,  O  Peter,  who 
didst  afflict  thy  Master  more  than  these  insolent  Jews. 
It  was  to  thee  he  turned  his  face  from  them,  that  he 
might  see  the  man  by  whom  he  most  smarted — he  heard 
thy  thrice  repeated  denials,  and  answered  thee  with  a 
look — such  a  look  as  was  able  to  melt  and  to  convert 
the  soul.  That  one  glance  hath  recalled  thee  to  virtue 
and  to  repentance — it  hath  awakened  thy  faith,  thy  love, 
thy  constancy — but  it  hath  caused  to  flow  abundantly  the 
streams  of  penitential  sorrow.  Now  is  thine  head  as 
waters,  and  thine  eyes  are  as  fountains  of  tears.  "  And 
Peter  went  out  and  wept  bitterly." 


95.— CHRIST  BEFORE  PILATE. 

The  Jewish  people  had  rejected  their  heavenly  King, 
and  justly  fell  under  the  Roman  yoke.  Too  well  did 
Tiberius  consult  their  froward  and  restless  dispositions, 
in  delegating  his  authority  to  one  who  permitted  their 
malice  to  wield  the  sword  which  had  been  wrested  from 
them  by  their  conquerors. 

Had  they  been  suffered  to  retain  the  power  of  life  and 
death  in  their  own  hands,  they  would  not  have  been  be- 
holden to  Pilate  for  the  murder  of  our  Lord.  Now,  re- 
pining at  their  slavery,  but  at  the  same  time  not  unwilling 
to  cast  the  odium  of  this  bloodshed  on  another,  the  great 


472  hall's  scripture  history. 

masters  of  Israel  flock  from  their  own  consistory  to  the 
judgment-hall  of  Pilate.  The  sentence  had  been  theirs, 
the  execution  must  be  his.  They  approach  the  Roman 
governor  with  assurance  of  success — they  imagine  that 
their  numbers,  their  age,  their  authority  cannot  fail  of 
completing  their  triumph  over  Jesus  of  Nazareth. 

But  wherefore,  O  ye  rulers  of  Jerusalem,  do  ye  i-e- 
main  at  the  door  of  Pilate  %  Why  do  ye  not  enter  that 
public  court  of  judicature,  to  call  for  the  justice  ye  are 
soliciting?  Was  it  that  ye  would  not  defile  yourselves 
with  the  contagion  of  a  heathen's  roof?  Holy  men  !  your 
consciences  would  not  suffer  you  to  yield  to  so  impure 
an  act — your  passover  must  be  kept — your  persons  must 
be  hallowed — while  ye  pretend  to  seek  justice  from  the 
man,  ye  abhor  the  pollution  of  the  place.  Vv^o  unto  you, 
scribes  and  Pharisees,  hypocrites  !  Could  there  be  any 
mansion  so  unclean  as  that  of  your  own  breasts  ?  Not 
Pilate's  walls,  but  your  hearts  are  impure.  Is  murder 
your  errand,  and  do  you  fear  a  local  infection  ?  Are  ye 
thirsting  after  innocent  blood,  and  do  ye  fear  to  be  de- 
filed by  setting  your  foot  on  Pilate's  pavement  1  Where- 
ever  ye  are  met,  O  ye  dissemblers,  there  is  the  resort  of 
guilt,  of  impiety,  of  foul  and  atrocious  wickedness. 

The  lenient  governor  condescends  to  gratify  their  su- 
perstition. They  dare  not  come  within  his  walls :  he 
goes  forth  to  the  blood-thirsty  consjiirators.  There  is 
more  equity  amongst  Romans  than  amongst  these  barba- 
rous Jews.  Even  Pilate  begins  the  conference  with  the 
just  and  necessary  inquiry,  **  What  accusation  bring  you 
against  this  man  ?"  The  priests  and  elders  thought  it 
enough  that  they  had  sentenced  Jesus — they  expected  no 
other  than  a  speedy  execution.  Civil  justice  must  blind- 
ly second  their  murderous  designs.  They  deem  it  enough 
conviction  that  he  is  given  up  to  the  secular  powers — 
they  have  judged  ;  Pilate  must  kill.  "  If  he  icere  not  a 
malefactor,  we  xcould  not  have  delivered  him  up  unto  thee. 


CHRIST    BEFORE    PILATE.  473 

What  needs  any  minute  investigation  ?  Dost  thou  know, 
Pilate,  by  whom  thou  art  addressed  ]  Is  this  the  respect 
paid  to  our  holy  priesthood  ]  Is  this  thine  estimation  of 
our  sanctity  1  Had  the  meanest  of  the  vulgar  complained 
to  thee  thou  couldst  not  have  shown  more  jealousy  and 
suspicion.  Our  rank,  our  station  might  have  exempted  us 
from  such  distrust.  If  our  scrupulous  observance  of  the 
law  of  Moses  forbids  us  even  to  enter  thy  walls,  how  canst 
thou  question  the  purity  of  our  consciences  ]  After  a  full 
hearing,  mature  deliberation,  and  all  possible  regard  to 
justice,  we  have  sentenced  this  malefactor  to  death — 
nothing  more  remains  but  thy  command  for  its  infliction." 

O  malice  and  iniquity  beyond  example  !  Must  he 
needs  be  a  criminal,  O  ye  priests  and  elders,  whom  ye 
are  resolved  to  condemn  ?  Is  your  word  a  sufficient 
authority  for  murder  1  How  often  have  ye  and  your 
fathers  been  stained  with  innocent  blood  ]  By  whose 
hands  perished  the  prophets  ?  Had  truth  and  sincerity 
governed  your  lips,  ye  must  have  exclaimed,  "  l£we  had 
not  been  malefactors,  we  should  not  have  delivered  up 
to  thee  this  guiltless  object  of  our  hatred." 

That  must  needs  be  notoriously  unjust  which  Pagans 
cannot  hear  without  detestation.  Pilate  receives  the 
base  and  wicked  suggestions  of  the  Jewish  elders  with 
deserved  abhorrence — "  Do  ye  pretend  holiness,  and 
urge  so  injurious  violence  1  If  he  be  such  as  ye  repre- 
sent, where  are  the  proofs  of  his  crime  ?  If  he  be  not 
legally  sentenced,  why  should  he  die  ?  Is  your  com- 
plaint sufl^cient  conviction  ]  If  I  must  decide,  wherefore 
do  ye  prejudge  1  Can  you  imagine  that  I  will  condemn 
any  man  unheard  1  If  your  Jewish  laws  give  you  this 
liberty,  the  Roman  laws  give  it  not  to  me.  Rather  com- 
plete the  work  ye  have  begun  ;  and  if  your  prisoner  is 
deserving  of  punishment,  let  him  be  punished  to  the  ex- 
tent of  your  delegated  power.  Take  ye  him,  and  judge 
him  according  to  your  lavj.'' 


474  hall's  scripture  history. 

How  palpably  doth  the  tongue  of  these  accusers  he- 
tray  the  malice  of  their  hearts  !  They  answered,  "  It  is 
not  lawful  for  us  to  put  any  man  to  death.'^  Pilate 
speaks  of  judgment — they  speak  of  that  which  was  their 
only  aim.  Law  is  but  a  pretext — ^judgment  is  but  a 
ceremony — death  is  their  object,  and  without  this  all 
their  hopes  are  frustrated.  It  was  well  that  power 
should  be  restrained  where  malice  and  cruelty  are  thus 
predominant.  No  innocence  could  be  safe  if  these  san- 
guinary tyrants  were  uncontrolled.  Indeed,  their  fury 
did  not  always  confine  itself  within  the  prescribed  limits. 
What  law  permitted  them  to  put  to  death  that  holy  and 
innocent  Martyr,  whose  expiring  voice  uttered  a  prayer 
for  his  murderers  ]  Even  now  what  law  jiermitted  them 
to  procure  that  death  by  false  and  unjust  insinuation, 
which  they  were  not  permitted  to  ivflict  ?  It  is  the 
wretched  policy  of  hypocrites  to  seek  a  plausible  pre- 
tence for  the  accomplishment  of  their  crimes,  and  to 
make  no  other  use  of  laws,  whether  divine  or  human, 
than  such  as  tends  to  promote  their  hateful  purposes. 

The  adversaries  of  Christ,  once  more  interrogated, 
are  not  at  a  loss  for  their  reply.  **  What  accusations,  O 
Pilate  1  Heinous  and  capital.  Thou  mightst  have  be- 
lieved our  solemn  asseveration — but  since  thou  wilt  needs 
urge  us  to  detail  particulars,  know  that  we  found  this 
man  perverting  the  natioii,  and  forbidding  to  give  tribute 
to  Casar — saying  that  himself  is  Christ,  a  King.  We 
come  furnished  with  such  a  charge  as  cannot  but  fill 
thee  with  horror  and  astonishment.  Besides  the  blas- 
phemy which  led  us  to  esteem  his  life  forfi;ited,  he  is  a 
seducer  of  the  people,  a  raiser  of  sedition,  a  bold  usurper 
of  sovereignty."  O  Savior,  what  marvel  is  it  if  thy  faith- 
ful servants  are  loaded  with  slanders,  when  thou,  who 
wert  innocence  itself,  couldst  not  escape  these  shameful 
eliminations  1  Thou  a  perverter  of  the  nation,  who  didst 
teach  the  way  of  God  truly !    Thou  a  forbidder  of  tribute, 


CHRIST    BEFORE    PILATE.  475 

who  didst  pay  it,  didst  prescribe  it,  who  didst  prove  it  to 
be  Caesar's  due  !  Thou  a  claimant  of  temporal  dominion, 
who  didst  avoid  it,  who  didst  renounce  it,  who  didst  take 
upon  thee  the  form  a  servant !  Well  does  thine  apostle 
remind  us,  that  through  evil  report  as  well  as  good  re- 
port lies  the  path  of  those  servants  who  would  follow 
their  blessed  Master.  "  False  witnesses  did  rise  up , 
they  laid  to  thy  charge  things  that  thou  knewest  not — 
their  mouth  was  full  of  cursing,  deceit  and  fraud — under 
their  tongue  was  mischief  and  vanity." 

Now  Pilate  is  startled  at  their  accusations  :  the  charge 
is  of  such  a  nature  as  to  awaken  his  most  serious  atten- 
tion. No  longer  does  he  deem  it  *'  a  question  of  their 
own  superstition."  He  is  brought  back,  as  by  some  po- 
tent spell,  to  the  hall  of  judgment.  At  his  tribunal  the 
innocent  and  holy  Jesus  stands  meekly  to  be  judged — he 
who  shall  at  the  last  day  come  to  judge  the  quick  and  the 
dead — he,  before  whose  awful  majesty  a  guilty  world 
shall  stand  in  terror  and  amazement. 

The  name  of  a  king,  the  name  of  Caesar  is  brought  in 
question — the  least  whisper  of  usurpation  or  disturbance  is 
received  with  proper  jealousy  and  care.  Pilate  demands 
of  his  prisoner,  "Art  thou  then  the  King  of  the  Jews  V 
He  felt  himself  wounded  in  the  tenderest  part.  Daniel's 
iveeks  were  known  to  be  near  their  expiration.  Many 
arrogant  usurpers,  (as  Judas  of  Galilee,  Theudas  and  the 
Egyptian  seducer,)  under  this  pretext,  had  raised  several 
conspiracies,  set  up  new  titles  to  the  crown,  gathered 
forces  to  maintain  their  false  claims.  Pilate  imagines 
this  to  be  a  case  of  the  same  nature,  and  eagerly  seeks 
for  information. 

He  who  was  no  less  wisdom  than  truth  thought  it  not 
best  either  to  affirm  or  to  deny  at  once.  To  disclaim 
that  title  suddenly,  which  had  of  old  been  given  him  by 
the  prophets,  at  his  birth  by  the  easteni  sages,  and  so 
lately  by  the  applauding  multitude,  would  have  been  in- 


476  hall's  scripture  history. 

jurious  to  himself.  To  challenge  and  demand  it  abso- 
lutely would  have  derogated  from  the  unambitious 
meekness  of  his  character.  By  wise  and  just  degrees 
therefore  doth  he  so  affirm  this  truth,  that  he  both  satis- 
fies the  inquirer  and  takes  off  all  invidiousness  from  his 
assertion.  Pilate  shall  know  that  he  is  a  King;  but 
such  as  no  king  needs  to  di'ead,  such  as  all  kings  ought 
to  acknowledge  and  adore.  "  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this 
world."  It  is  your  own  misconception,  O  ye  earthly 
potentates,  which  is  the  parent  of  your  fears.  Herod 
hears  of  a  King  born,  and  is  troubled.  Pilate  hears  of  a 
King  of  the  Jews,  and  is  incensed.  Were  ye  not  igno- 
rant, ye  could  not  be  jealous — had  ye  learned  to  distin- 
guish aright,  your  suspicions  would  vanish. 

There  is  an  earthly,  and  there  is  a  heavenly  kingdom 
— neither  of  these  militate  against  the  other.  Your 
kingdom  is  secular — Christ's  is  spiritual :  your  laws  are 
civil — his  divine :  your  reign  is  temporal — his  eternal : 
your  glory  is  in  pom^?,  in  riches,  in  magnificence — his 
glory  is  in  the  graces  of  sanctification,  love,  peace,  righte- 
ousness, joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost.  You  are  opposed  by 
bold  usurpers  and  seditious  insurgents — his  enemies  are 
the  devil,  the  world  and  the  flesh.  Your  sword  is  mate- 
rial— his  the  power  of  the  "Word  and  Spirit :  your  rule 
is  over  this  outward  frame — his  over  the  heart  and  con- 
science :  you  can  but  kill  the  body — he  is  able  to  destroy 
both  soul  and  body  in  hell.  So  far  is  he  from  opposing 
your  government,  that  by  him  ye  reign — your  scejDtres 
are  his — but  to  maintain,  not  to  wteld  ;  much  less  to  re- 
sist. O  the  unjust  fears  of  vain  men  !  His  intention  is 
not  to  make  you  less  great,  but  more  happy.  He  takes 
not  away  your  earthly  kingdoms,  who  can  give  you  heav- 
enly— he  removes  not  your  present  diadems,  who  can 
crown  you  with  immortal  glory. 


CHRIST    BEFORE    PILATE.  477 

96.— CHRIST   BEFORE    TIL ATH. ^continued. 

The  accusation  is  so  fully  disproved  that  Pilate  ac- 
quits his  prisoner.  The  Jewish  rulers  stand  without — 
their  malice  still  yields  to  their  superstition.  Pilate  has 
examined  Jesus  in  the  judgment-hall,  and  now  comes 
forth  to  these  eager  complainants  with  an  answer  ill-suit- 
ed to  their  expectations — "  I  find  in  him  no  fault  at  all." 
O  noble  testimony  to  Christ's  innocence,  from  those  lips 
which  afterwards  doomed  him  to  death  !  When  the  Ro- 
man governor  becomes  a  slave  to  the  malignant  Jews, 
he  can  then  say,  *'  Let  him  be  crucified."  That  cruel 
sentence  cannot  stigmatize  him  who  has  received  this 
free  attestation.  In  spite  of  the  rancor  of  his  enemies, 
his  guiltless  life  shall  have  its  just  tribute  of  praise — 
rather  than  Christ  shall  want  witness,  the  mouth  of 
Pilate  shall  be  opened  in  his  justification. 

How  were  the  murderous  Jew^s  thunderstruck  with 
this  unexpected  word !  The  absolution  of  Jesus  was 
death  to  their  hopes  :  his  acquittal  was  their  conviction. 
"  No  fault,  when  we  have  found  crimes  1  No  fault  at  all, 
when  we  have  condemned  him  for  capital  offences  '? 
How  palpably  doth  Pilate  brand  us  with  falsehood  ! 
How  shamefully  doth  he  affront  our  authority  and  dis- 
j)arage  our  administration  of  justice  !"  The  open  and 
ingenuous  declaration  of  the  governor  exasperates  the 
fury  of  these  zealots — the  fire  of  their  indignation  is 
heated  seven  times  more  by  the  sense  of  their  repulse. 

As  yet,  Pilate  is  not  only  just  but  merciful.  Gladly 
would  he  have  protected  Jesus,  whom  he  had  found 
faultless. 

Corrupt  custom,  in  memory  of  their  deliverance  from 
Egyptian  bondage,  induced  the  Jews  at  their  passover 
to  liberate  one  prisoner,  however  grievous  the  crimes 
laid  against  him.    Pilate  seeks  to  avail  himself  of  their 


478  HALL  S  SCRIPTURE  HISTORY. 

assumed  jirivilege  for  the  safety  of  Jesus.  That  he 
might  be  more  likely  to  prevail,  he  opposes  him  to  the 
nomination  of  a  malefactor  so  notorious  as  might  be 
justly  deemed  unworthy  of  all  mercy — Barabbas,  a 
thief,  a  murderer,  an  exciter  of  sedition — infamous  for 
all — odious  to  all.  Had  he  proposed  a  prisoner  whose 
guilt  was  questionable,  he  might  have  feared  the  decis- 
ion— he  cannot  doubt  the  competition  between  Jesus  of 
Nazareth  and  that  atrocious  ciiminal.  "  Then  cried  they 
all  again,  Not  this  man,  hut  Barabbas  /" 

Who  can  but  lament  that  a  heathen  should  see  Jews 
so  impetuously  unjust,  so  savagely  cruel  ?  He  knew  that 
there  was  no  fault  to  be  found  in  Jesus  ;  he  knew  that 
there  was  no  crime  not  to  be  found  in  Barabbas — yet 
he  hears,  and  blushes  to  hear,  their  malignant  outcry. 
*'  Though  they  found  no  cause  of  death  in  him,  yet  desir- 
ed they  Pilate  that  he  should  be  slain — they  denied  the 
Holy  One  and  the  Just,  and  demanded  a  murderer  to  be 
granted  unto  them."  O  Savior,  what  an  indignity  was 
this  from  thine  own  nation  !  Didst  thou  refuse  all  glory, 
to  put  on  shame  and  misery  for  their  sakes  ]  Didst  thou 
disregard  thyself  to  save  them,  and  do  they  refuse  thee 
for  Barabbas  ?  Didst  thou  say,  **  Not  heaven,  but  earth ; 
not  sovereignty,  but  service  ;  not  honor,  but  abasement  ;'* 
and  do  they  say,  "  Not  him,  but  Barabbas  1" 

Thus  did  ye  requite  the  Lord,  O  foolish  people  and 
unjust.  Thus  was  his  soul  wounded,  even  before  his 
death — while  he  saw  your  impious  rage,  and  heard  your 
clamor,  "  Crucify,  crucify  !" 

Pilate  would  have  chastised  and  released  his  prisoner. 
Even  this  had  been  an  act  of  cruelty — for  what  evil  had 
Jesus  done  ?  but  the  cruelty  of  Pilate  was  tender  mercy  in 
comparison  with  that  of  the  Jews  ;  no  punishment  would 
satisfy  them  but  the  death  of  their  victim.  While  the  Ro- 
man governor  again  proclaims  our  Savior's  innocence, 
his  enemies  more  loudly  proclaim  their  inveterate  ma- 


Christ  BEFont  pilate.  479 

lice.     They  cried  the  more,  '*  Crucify  him,  crucify  him  '/' 

As  their  clamor  increased  the  justice  of  Pilate  declin- 
ed.  His  feeble  and  dubious  virtue  was  carried  away  by 
the  tide  of  popular  tumult.  Thrice  had  he  declared  our 
Lord  guiltless  ;  now,  "  willing  to  content  the  people,"  he 
prepares  to  sentence  him  to  death.  O  wretched  slave  to 
human  ambition !  Not  God,  not  his  conscience  meets 
with  regard,  but  the  giddy  multitude — that  senseless  idol 
of  the  proud  man's  adoration,  whose  anger  is  but  a 
fleeting  shadow,  whose  applause  is  as  the  wind  that 
passeth  away,  and  cometh  not  again. 

Now  must  the  Gentiles  complete  the  bloody  deed 
which  these  remorseless  hypocrites  had  begun.  The 
cruel  Pilate,  though  he  knew  that  Jesus  was  delivered 
for  envy,  falsely  accused,  basely  and  slanderously  traduc- 
ed, no  longer  refuses  to  yield  to  Jewish  bigotry  land  su- 
perstition. O  Savior,  thou  didst  fulfil  thine  own  word, 
**  I  gave  my  back  to  the  smiters,  and  my  cheeks  to  them 
that  plucked  off  the  hair — I  hid  not  my  face  from  shame 
and  spitting."  Lord,  how  can  we  be  sufficiently  sensible  of 
those  sins  which  occasioned  thy  bitter  sufferings  !  Thou 
wert  wounded  for  our  transgressions — thou  wert  bruised 
for  our  iniquities — the  chastisement  of  our  peace  was 
upon  thee,  and  by  tliy  stripes  we  are  healed. 

Now,  into  what  a  world  of  reproaches,  indignities, 
miseries,  art  thou  entering !  To  an  ingenuous  disposi- 
tion unmerited  ignominy  is  torment  enough — but  here, 
bodily  anguish  is  added  to  mental  suffering — and  both  con- 
S2)ire  to  gratify  the  despite  and  malice  of  thine  enemies. 

The  perpetrators  of  these  savage  cruelties  are  fierce 
and  merciless  soldiers — men  inured  to  blood — in  whose 
very  faces  were  written  the  characters  of  murder.  These 
are  called  together  with  eager  haste — each  man  has  his 
appointed  office — each  man,  joining  insult  to  barbarity, 
hastens  to  add  more  sorrow  to  a  heart  that  is  grieved. 

Was  it  not  enough  then,   O  Savior,  that  thv  sacred 


480  hall's  scripture  history. 

body  was  stripped  of  its  garments  and  disfigured  witli 
bloody  stripes,  but  that  thy  person  must  be  thus  indig- 
nantly treated  by  thine  inhuman  enemies — thy  back  dis- 
guised with  purple  robes — thy  temples  wounded  with  a 
thorny  crown — thy  face  spat  upon — thy  cheeks  buffeted 
— thy  head  smitten — thy  hand  sceptred  with  a  reed — thy- 
self derided  with  bent  knees  and  scoffing  acclamations  ? 
Whence  are  all  these  mockeries  but  to  insult  Majesty  1 
Whence  are  the  ornaments  and  ceremonies  of  royal  in- 
auguration but  to  cast  scorn  on  the  despised  and  perse- 
cuted Jesus  1  Was  that  head  fit  for  thorns  which  every 
eye  shall  hereafter  see  crowned  with  glory  and  suprema- 
cy 1  Was  that  hand  fit  for  a  reed,  whose  sceptre  con- 
trolleth  all  the  world  1  Was  that  face  fit  for  contumeli- 
ous spitting,  from  whose  dreadful  aspect  impenitent  sin- 
ners shall  flee  in  guilty  consternation  when  he  shall  arise 
to  shake  terribly  the  earth  ] 

How  dost  thou  abase  thyself,  O  thou  Son  of  the  Fa- 
ther, how  dost  thou  abase  thyself  for  mankind  ?  We 
have  sinned,  and  thou  art  punished — we  have  exalted 
ourselves,  and  thou  art  dejected — we  have  dishonored 
thee,  and  thou  art  scoraed — we  have  smitten  thee,  and 
thou  art  smitten  for  us — we  have  clothed  ourselves  with 
shame,  and  thou  art  covered  with  robes  of  ignominy. 

Thus  disguised,  thus  bleeding,  thus  mangled,  art  thou 
brought  forth  to  the  furious  multitude,  presented  to  their 
derision  and  reproach.  "  Behold  the  Man  !  Behold  him, 
O  ye  Jews,  the  man  whom  ye  envied  for  his  greatness, 
and  feared  for  his  usurpation.  Does  he  now  command 
your  reverence  ?  Will  he  wrest  the  sceptre  from  the 
hands  of  Caesar?  Behold  him  discolored  by  cruel  buf- 
fetings,  wounded  with  thorns,  torn  with  scourges,  bathed 
in  blood.  Is  he  not  now  sufficiently  miserable  ]  Would 
ye  expose  him  to  more  aggravated  sufferings  and  tor- 
ment 1" 

What  an  inward  war  is  in  the  heart  of  Pilate !    His 


CHRIST    BEFORE    PILATE.  481 

conscience  bids  him  spare — his  regard  to  popularity  bids 
him  kill.  His  wife,  warned  by  a  dream,  cautions  him  to 
refrain  from  shedding  the  blood  of  that  just  man — the 
importunate  multitude  press  him  for  a  sentence  of  death. 
All  expedients  have  been  tried  to  liberate  one  whom 
justice  pronounces  innocent — all  violent  motives  are  urg- 
ed to  condemn  one  whom  malice  pronounces  guilty. 

In  the  height  of  this  contention,  when  conscience  and 
a  regard  to  duty  are  ready  to  gain  the  victory  in  the 
heart  of  Pilate,  the  Jews  cry  out,  "  If  thou  let  this  man 
go,  thou  art  not  Caesar's  friend."  Now  Jesus  must  die — 
this  is  the  fatal,  the  decisive  allegation.  In  vain  shall  we 
hope  that  a  wicked  man  can  prefer  virtue  to  safety.  Pi- 
late hastens  to  the  judgment-hall — his  lips  no  longer  re- 
fuse to  pronounce  the  bloody  sentence — "  Let  him  be 
crucified." 

To  what  miserable  expedients  has  the  sinner  recourse 
when  he  vainly  seeks  to  stifle  the  voice  of  conscience  ! 
In  the  presence  of  the  multitude  Pilate  took  water  and 
washed  his  hands,  saying,  **  I  am  innocent  of  the  blood 
of  this  just  person,  see  ye  to  it !"  Can  the  hands  then 
cleanse  the  heart  ?  Can  a  crime  be  so  easily  obliterated 
from  the  book  of  remembrance  ]  Can  a  protestation  of 
innocence  absolve  the  guilty  ]  Is  murder  of  no  deeper 
die  1  Poor  and  fruitless  evasion  !  Wretched  policy  of 
the  offender  who  flattereth  himself  in  his  own  eyes,  and 
saith,  **  Peace,  peace,"  when  there  is  no  peace  ! 

Little  did  the  desperate  Jews  know  the  weight  of  tho 
blood  which  they  imprecated  on  themselves,  on  their 
children.  Had  they,  like  the  specious  Pilate,  sought  for 
iviputnlty,  their  actions  would  yet  have  called  on  heaven 
for  vengeance — but  now  when  they  bring  it  on  them- 
selves by  a  willing  execration,  what  marvel  if  they  suffer 
accordingly  ?  They  delighted  in  cursing,  and  it  came 
ujion  them — they  loved  not  blessing,  therefore  it  was  far 
from  them.    And  have  ye  not  now  felt,  O  wretched  and 

gcript.  Hist.  21 


482  hall's  scnirTURE  history. 

deluded  nation,  ichose  Llood  it  wap,  the  guilt  of  which  ye 
claimed  as  your  own  ]  Have  ye  not  been  made  a  most 
memorable  and  lasting  example  of  Divine  indignation  ? 
Did  not  many  of  you  live  to  see  your  city  buried  in  ashes 
and  drenched  with  slaughter  ?  Was  there  ever  a  people 
under  heaven  which  exhibited  such  a  spectacle  of  desola- 
tion and  misery]  Your  former  cruelties,  apostacics,  idola- 
tries, occasioned  you  to  be  led  captive  for  a  season.  God 
cannot  but  be  just.  This  sin  under  which  you  now  suffer 
must  needs  be  something  greater  than  those  which  went 
before,  as  your  punishment  is  more  signal.  And  what  can 
that  sin  be,  but  the  murder  of  the  Lord  of  Life  ?  Ye  have 
what  ve  wished  :  ye  must  be  miserable  till  ye  are  penitent. 


97._THE    CRUCIFIXION. 

The  sentence  of  death  is  past — and  now  the  spotless 
victim  must  be  led  to  instant  slaughter.  All  the  streets 
are  full  of  gazing  spectators,  waiting  for  this  moninful 
Bight.  At  last,  O  Savior,  thou  comest  out  of  the  gate  of 
Pilate's  house,  bearing  the  engine  of  death.  To  expect 
thy  cross  was  not  torment  enough,  thou  must  cany  it, 
and  must  be  an  agent  in  thine  own  sufferings.  Thine  in- 
sulting enemies  are  more  imperiously  cruel,  as  they  arc 
more  sure  of  success.  Their  merciless  tormentings  have 
made  thee  half-dead  already — yet  now,  as  if  they  had 
done  nothing,  they  begin  afresh,  and  will  force  thy  weak 
and  fainting  nature  to  new  tasks  of  pain.  O  true  form  and 
condition  of  a  senant !  Yet  oven  this  act  proceeds  more 
from  thy  love  towards  mankind,  than  from  the  power 
and  malice  of  thine  enemies.  Not  without  thy  gracious 
concurrence  did  thy  Father  lay  on  thee  the  iniquity  of  us 


THE    CRUCIFIXION.  483 

all.  It  was  thine  own  mercy  which  caused  thee  to  bear 
our  sins  upon  the  cross,  and  to  bear  the  cross  with  the 
curse  annexed  to  it  for  our  sins.  Teach  us,  blessed 
Lord,  to  imitate  thy  divine  fortitude — teach  us  with 
meekness  and  resignation  to  submit  to  thy  correcting 
hand — write  thine  own  words  on  the  tablet  of  our  hearts, 
"  If  any  man  come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself  and 
take  up  his  cross  and  follow  me  !" 

When  thy  loss  of  blood  and  excess  of  pain  caused 
thee  to  faint  under  the  weight  of  this  burden — when  thy 
feeble  paces  were  too  slow  for  their  purpose — when 
their  thirst  for  thy  blood  made  them  impatient  of  delay, 
Simon  of  Cyrene  is  deputed  to  bear  thy  cross  :  not  out 
of  compassion  to  thy  misery — not  out  of  regard  to  thy 
bitter  sufferings.  Thou  hast  struggled  with  thy  load 
through  the  streets  of  Jerusalem  ;  now  they  prefer  the 
expediting  of  thy  death  to  inflicting  on  thee  the  pain 
of  a  lingering  progress.  While  thou  livest  they  do  not 
esteem  themselves  either  safe  or  happy. 

Hadst  thou  done  this  out  of  choice,  O  Simon  of  Cy- 
rene, which  thou  didst  out  of  constraint,  how  would  thy 
name  have  been  made  glorious  as  the  first  man  who  bore 
the  cross  of  thy  Savior — an  office  to  which  millions  of 
blessed  martyrs  have  aspired,  and  wherein  they  have 
been  ambitious  to  succeed  thee.  Thus  to  bear  the  cross 
had  been  more  honorable  than  to  receive  a  sceptre — 
when  weighed  in  the  balance  with  this  high  privilege, 
earthly  glories  had  been  less  than  nothing — the  mere 
vanity  of  vanities. 

While  thus  the  Savior  of  mankind  passes  along,  the 
streets  resound  not  with  one  common  exclamation.  If 
the  malicious  Jews  and  ciTiel  soldiers  railed  on  him, 
his  faithful  sei-^'ants  were  no  less  vehement  in  their  cries 
and  lamentations — especially  his  blessed  mother  and  her 
zealous  associates  were  passionate  in  their  expressions  of 
sorrow.    The  divine  Sufferer  cannot  be  unmoved  at  their 


484  hall's    SCRII'TIRK     HKSTOKY. 

anguish — his  ears  are  ever  open  to  the  voice  of  grief — 
his  heart  feels  the  tenderest  pity.  "  Daughters  of  Jeru- 
salem, weep  not  for  me,  but  weep  for  yourselves  and  for 
your  children."  Who  would  not  have  thought,  O  Savior, 
that  thou  wouldst  have  been  wholly  engaged  by  thine 
own  soiTows  ]  The  expectation  of  so  bitter  a  death 
would  have  overwhelmed  any  soul  but  thine — yet,  even 
now,  thy  gracious  eye  can  look  beyond  thine  own  mise- 
ries at  those  of  others  ;  and  can  pity  them,  who,  insensible, 
of  the  future,  mourned  for  thy  present  calamities.  While 
they  pour  out  their  grief  on  thee,  thou  directest  them  to 
other  causes  of  sorrow.  While  thou  art  in  sight  of  Cal- 
vary thou  canst  foresee  and  pity  the  devastation  of  Je- 
rusalem— prophesying  the  near  approach  of  ruin  to  that 
city  which  had  lately  cost  thee  tears,  and  now  shall  cost 
thee  blood.  All  the  cruelty  and  ingratitude  of  man  de- 
prives thee  not  of  thy  mercy. 

Jerusalem  had  other  malefactors  though  Barabbas  was 
dismissed.  To  give  a  greater  appearance  of  justice  to 
their  bloody  revenge,  the  Jews  appointed  two  capital  of- 
fenders, adjudged  to  death,  to  accompany  the  Savior  of 
mankind  in  his  last  moments.  O  blessed  Jesus,  it  would 
have  been  disparagement  enough  to  thee  to  have  been 
compared  with  the  best  of  men — but  to  be  thus  associa- 
ted with  notorious  transgressors,  whom  vengeance  would 
not  suffer  to  live,  is  such  an  indignity  as  confounds  our 
thoughts.  Surely  there  was  no  angel  in  heaven  who 
would  not  have  rejoiced  to  attend  thee  ;  and  whom 
could  the  earth  afford  worthy  to  form  thy  train  ?  Yet  be- 
hold, the  malice  of  thine  enemies  has  given  thee  com- 
panions neai'ly  allied  to  hell — that  their  sin  might  in 
some  measure  reflect  upon  thee — that  their  acknowledg- 
ed guilt  might  cast  a  stain  upon  thy  perfect  innocence. 
So  guarded,  so  attended,  so  accompanied,  O  Savior,  art 
thou  led  to  that  disgraceful  hill,  which  thy  last  blood  shall 
render  sacred.    Now  thou  settest  thy  foot  upon  that  rising 


THE    CIIUCIFIXION.  485 

ground  which  shall  anticipate  thine  Olivet — whence  thy 
soul  shall  ascend  into  thy  glory. 

There,  while  thou  art  preparing  for  thy  last  act,  thou 
art  presented  with  that  bitter  potion,  wherewith  dying 
malefactors  were  wont  to  have  their  senses  stupificd  be- 
fore the  torments  of  their  execution. 

That  draught,  O  Savior,  was  not  more  welcome  to  the 
guilty  than  hateful  unto  thee.  In  the  vigor  of  all  thine 
inward  and  outward  faculties  thou  wouldst  encounter 
the  most  violent  assaults  of  death,  and  scornedst  to  abate 
the  least  circumstance  of  thy  quickest  apprehension. 
Thou  well  knewest  that  the  w^ork  thou  hadst  to  perform 
claimed  all  thy  powers — thou  didst  not  seek  thine  own 
ease,  but  our  redemption. 

Now,  even  now,  O  Savior,  art  thou  entering  into  those 
dreadful  lists,  and  art  about  to  begin  the  conflict  with  thy 
last  enemy.  Again  do  these  merciless  soldiers  lay  their 
rude  hands  upon  thee — again  must  thy  sacred  body  un- 
dergo the  shame  of  an  abhorred  nakednccs.  Lo,  thou, 
that  clothest  man  with  apparel,  animals  with  hides,  and 
plumage,  and  scales,  and  shells,  earth  with  flowers,  hea- 
ven with  stars,  art  despoiled  of  thy  raiment,  and  exposed 
to  the  sconi  of  these  blasphemers.  As  the  first  Adam  en- 
tered into  his  Paradise,  so  dost  thou,  the  second  Adam, 
into  thine — and  as  the  first  Adam  was  clothed  with  inno- 
cence, so  art  thou  in  this  thine  humiliation.  O  happy 
shame,  whereby  we  are  invested  with  glory — whereby 
our  souls  are  arrayed  in  perfect  holiness  and  unfading 
beauty !  Hadst  thou  not  been  dishonored,  O  Lord,  we 
had  been  clothed  in  confusion — the  curse  had  been  pour- 
ed upon  us,  and  we  had  trodden  the  wine-press  of  the 
wrath  of  God. 

Shame  is  succeeded  by  torture.  Now  do  these  barba- 
rous executioners  fasten  the  Savior  of  mankind  to  his  cross 
— now  do  those  iron  nails,  passing  through  the  palms  of 
his  sacred  hands,  fix  him   to   the  accursed  tree ;  which 


486  hall's  scripture  history. 

being  suddenly  raised  up,  is  settled  in  the  earth  by  a  ve- 
hement concussion.  Blessed  Jesus,  how  are  thy  limbs, 
and  joints,  and  sinews  torn  by  this  horrible  distension ! 
how  does  thine  own  weight  torment  thee,  while  thy 
whole  body  rests  upon  this  forced  and  painful  hold,  thy 
nailed  feet  bearing  their  pari  in  the  torturing  support  ] 
How  did  the  iron  enter  into  thy  soul,  while,  passing 
through  these  exquisitely-sensible  parts  of  the  body,  it 
riveted  thee  to  thy  cross  ! 

There,  O  blessed  Savior,  there  art  thou  lifted  up,  in  the 
sight  of  thine  enemies,  naked,  bleeding,  forlorn,  desj^ised, 
the  spectacle  of  miseiy,  the  scorn  of  men.  Be  abashed,  O 
ye  heavens  and  earth,  and  let  the  world  be  covered  with 
confusion,  to  behold  the  shame,  and  anguish,  and  sorrow 
of  its  great  and  omnipotent  Creator.  O  Lord,  didst  thou 
take  our  nature  upon  thee  to  be  thus  derided,  thus  man- 
gled, thus  tortured  1  Was  this  treatment  fit  to  be  offered 
to  thy  sacred  body,  which  was  the  pure  and  hallowed 
temple  of  the  living  God  1  The  carnal  eye  acknowledges 
thee  not,  O  Savior,  in  this  thine  hour  of  suffering — it  can- 
not distinguish  thee,  though  it  approach  to  thy  very  cross 
— while  the  eye  of  faith  sees  thee  afar  off;  and  in  all  this 
ignominy,  and  pain,  and  wretchedness  admires  the  glory 
of  thy  mercy.  Alas,  is  this  the  head  that  is  decked  by 
thine  eternal  Father  with  a  crown  of  pure  gold,  with  im- 
mortal and  incomprehensible  majesty,  which  now  is  shad- 
ed with  a  thorny  diadem  1  Are  these  the  eyes  that  saw 
the  heavens  open,  and  the  Holy  Ghost  descend  on  thy- 
self?— these  the  eyes  that  beheld  the  splendor  of  celestial 
brightness  on  mount  Tabor,  which  now  begin  to  be  over- 
clouded with  death  1  Are  these  the  ears  that  heard  the 
voice  of  thy  Father  owning  thee  from  heaven,  which  now 
bleed  with  thorns  and  glow  with  reproaches  1  Are  these 
the  lips  that  spake  as  never  man  spake,  full  of  gi'ace  and 
truth,  that  raised  the  dead,  healed  diseases,  cast  out  de- 
vils, preaclicd  the  glorious  Gospel  of  salvation,  which  now 


THE    CRUCIFIXION.  487 

are  swollen  and  discolored  by  sacrilegious  bufl'etings  1 
Are  these  the  hands  that  stretched  out  the  heavens  like 
a  curtain,  that  by  their  touch  gave  instant  relief  to  the 
lame,  the  deaf,  the  blind,  which  now^re  bleeding  w^ith 
the  nails  ?  Are  these  the  feet  that  lately  walked  upon 
the  liquid  pavement  of  the  sea,  before  whose  footstool 
all  the  nations  of  the  earth  are  commanded  to  worship, 
which  are  now  so  painfully  fixed  to  the  cross  ? 

O  cruel  and  unthankful  mankind,  who  offered  such  in- 
dignities to  the  Lord  of  Life  !  O  gracious  and  loving  Re- 
deemer, who  wouldst  sufler  all  this  for  unthankful  man- 
kind !  That  the  avenging  arm  of  lawful  authority  should 
punish  offenders  with  loss  of  life  is  terrible,  though  just : 
but  that  wicked  men  should  act  thus  towards  the  holy 
and  blessed  Son  of  God — it  is  beyond  the  capacity  of  our 
horror  ! 


97.— THE  CRVCIFIXIO^, ---continued. 

The  malice  which  brought  our  blessed  Lord  to  his 
cross  leaves  him  not  there  to  expire,  without  every  ag- 
gTavation  of  torment,  every  varied  indignity  which  hell 
itself  can  suggest.  Two  thieves  are  appointed  to  be  his 
companions  in  his  last  moments — his  enemies  place  him 
in  the  midst,  as  one  laden  with  more  than  ordinary  guilt. 
AVhercsoever  he  turns  his  eyes,  they  are  met  by  objects 
of  shame  and  disgust.  But,  O  blessed  Jesus,  how  shall 
we  celebrate  aright  thine  infinite  mercy,  who  didst  im- 
prove this  refinement  of  Jewish  revenge  to  the  salvation 
of  one,  to  the  comfort  of  millions  !  Was  not  this,  as  the 
last,  so  the  greatest  act  of  thy  wonderful  compassion, 
that  thou  didst  convert  that  dying  offender  ]  that  at  such 


488  hall's  scripture  history. 

a  time,  in  such  circumstances,  thou  didst  deliver  an  im- 
mottal  soul  from  the  very  jaws  of  destruction  ?  Lord, 
how  do  we  bless  thee  for  this  work  ! — how  do  we  stand 
amazed  at  this  degionstration  of  thy  goodness  and  power  ! 

The  criminal  came  to  die  :  nothing  was  in  his  thoughts 
but  g-uilt  and  torment — while  he  was  yet  in  his  blood, 
thou  saidst,  "  This  soul  shall  live."  Ere  yet  the  intoxi- 
cating potion  could  affect  his  senses  thy  spirit  infuses 
faith  into  his  heart.  He  who  saw  death  and  torture  be- 
fore his  eyes,  is  raised  from  the  things  which  are  seen  to 
the  things  which  are  not  seen — "  Lord,  remember  me 
when  thou  comest  in  thy  kingdom."  Is  this  the  voice 
of  a  malefactor  or  of  a  disciple  ?  A'erily  we  find  not  so 
great  faith,  no  not  in  all  Israel.  He  saw  thee  hanging  on 
the  accursed  tree,  and  he  styled  thee  "  Lord  " — he  saw 
thee  dying,  yet  talked  of  thy  kingdom — he  felt  himself 
dying,  yet  sj)ake  of  a  future  remembrance — he  saw  his 
companion  still  obdurate,  and  called  upon  him  to  fear 
God,  to  acknowledge  his  own  guilt,  and  the  innocence  of 
Jesus — he  looked  beyond  the  cross  to  a  crown ;  beyond 
dissolution  to  life  and  glory.  Lord,  which  of  thine  apos- 
tles thus  bare  witness  to  thee  in  the  hour  of  thy  sufferings  ? 
After  thy  resurrection,  when  thou  wert  entering  on  thy 
glory,  what  wonder  if  they  discoursed  of  thy  kingdom  ? 
But  in  the  moment  of  thy  shameful  death,  for  a  dying 
malefactor  to  speak  of  thy  reigning,  and  to  implore  the 
remembrance  of  himself  in  a  future  state  of  blessedness 
— this  is  an  act  of  such  exalted  faith  as  fills  the  whole 
Boul  with  admiration. 

O  thou  who  wort  thus  brought  into  the  true  fold,  how 
graciously  wert  thou  called  to  take  up  thy  cross  and  fol- 
low thy  Master,  as  a  partaker  of  his  sufferings,  a  zealous 
witness  to  the  truth,  a  patron  of  tnumphant  faith,  a  hap- 
py object  of  infinite  mercy  !  "  This  day  shalt  thou  be 
with  me  in  Paradise."  Thou  implorest  a  remembrance — 
thy  Savior  speaks  of  immediate  possession  :  thou  suest 


THE    CRUCIFIXION,  489 

for  that  remembrance  as  a  favor  to  the  absent — thy  Sa- 
vior speaks  of  thy  presence  with  him  :  thou  speakest  of 
a  kingdom — thy  Savior  of  Paradise.  As  no  disciple 
could  be  more  faithful,  so  no  saint  could  be  happier. 

Now,  ye  cruel  priests  and  elders,  ye  are  at  leisure  to 
feast  your  eyes  with  the  sight  ye  so  much  longed  for — 
ye  have  now  the  blood  ye  purchased.  And  is  not  your 
malice  yet  satisfied  ?  Is  not  this  enough,  without  your 
taunts  and  insulting  mockeries  ?  The  people,  the  pass- 
ers by  are  taught  to  deride  where  they  should  adore. 
Many  a  tongue  utters  impious  calumny  against  him  in 
whom  was  no  gTiile.  A  generous  nature  is  more  wound- 
ed by  slanders  than  by  the  utmost  severity  of  torture. 
What  grief  must  have  entered  into  thy  heart,  O  blessed 
Lord,  to  hear  these  bitter  reproaches  from  those  whom 
thou  earnest  to  save  ? 

But  alas,  how  small  were  these  son'ows  in  compaiison 
with  that  inward  torment  which  thy  soul  felt  in  the  ap- 
prehension of  thy  Father's  wrath  for  the  sins  of  the 
world  now  laid  upon  thy  head  !  While  he  looked  upon 
thee  with  eyes  of  favor,  what  hadst  thou  to  fear  fi'om 
earth  or  hell  ?  but  when  he  turned  his  face  from  thee, 
though  but  for  a  moment,  this,  this  was  worse  than  death. 
No  marvel  if  darkness  was  upon  the  whole  earth  when 
ihy  Father's  countenance  was  hid  from  thee  by  the  inter- 
position of  our  sins.  That  word  of  thine,  O  Savior,  was 
enough  to  bring  the  sun  from  heaven  and  to  dissolve  the 
face  of  nature,  when  thou  criedst  out,  **  My  God,  my 
God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  I"  What  pangs  were 
these,  which  occasioned  such  a  lamentation  !  What 
could  be  more  acceptable  to  thine  enemies  than  to  hear 
this  language  from  thee  ?  Never  could  they  have  ima- 
gined the  anguish  of  thy  soul,  if  thine  own  lips  had  not 
expressed  it — yet  not  regarding  their  exultation,  thou 
pourest  out  thy  sorrows — and  where  so  much  is  uttered 
who  can  conceive  what  is  felt  ? 
21* 


490  hall's  scripture  history. 

How  is  it  then,  O  Savior,  that  tliou  makest  this  ago- 
nizing complaint  1  Hath  thy  God  left  thee  ?  Art  thou 
severed  from  him  1  Far,  far  be  this  thought  removed 
from  the  hearts  of  thy  servants  !  No  more  can  thy 
blessed  Father  be  separated  from  thee,  than  from  his  own 
essence.  His  union  with  thee  is  eternal — but  he  would 
for  a  season  withdraw  from  thine  human  nature  the  in- 
fluence of  his  comfort.  Thou  didst  bear  our  sins  in  thine 
own  body  on  the  tree,  that  we,  being  dead  to  sin,  might 
live  unto  righteousness.  Hadst  thou  not  been  thus  appa- 
rently forsaken,  we  had  indeed  perished  without  recovery. 
Thou  wert  made  to  be  sin  for  us,  who  knewest  no  sin, 
that  we  might  be  made  the  righteousness  of  God  in  thee. 
'  But  while  we  are  full  of  the  sense  of  thy  sufferings, 
let  us  not  forget  the  riches  of  thy  mercy.  Thine  enemies 
rejoice  in  thy  death,  and  triumph  in  thy  misery ;  thou 
implorest  the  compassion  of  heaven  in  their  behalf — 
"  Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do." 
They  blaspheme  thee,  thou  prayest  for  them — they 
scorn,  thou  pitiest — they  sin  against  thee,  thou  implorest 
forgiveness  for  them — they  profess  their  malice,  thou 
pleadest  their  ignorance — they  claim  the  guilt  of  thy 
blood,  thou  art  eager  to  deprecate  it — they  kill,  thou 
8uest  for  their  remission  and  life.  O  compassion  without 
example,  without  measure,  worthy  of  the  Son  of  God, 
worthy  of  the  Savior  of  men  ! 

Blessed  Lord,  that  prayer  could  not  but  be  heai'd. 
They  who  from  ignorance  and  simplicity  (not  from  in- 
veterate malice)  thus  persecuted  thee,  find  the  happy 
consequences  of  thine  intercession.  Hence  was  it  that 
three  thousand  souls  were  soon  after  converted  at  one 
sermon.  It  was  not  the  speech  of  Peter,  it  was  thy 
prayer  which  was  thus  effectual.  Lord,  what  offence 
ebould  we  be  unwilling  to  remit,  when  thou,  while  hang- 
ing on  thy  cross,  couldst  thus  pray  for  the  forgiveneee  of 
thy  murderers  and  blasphemers  ] 


THE    CRCCIPIXION.  491 

O  blessed  Savior,  thou  art  drawing  near  the  end  of 
thy  painful  sufferings,  when,  exhausted  with  labor  and 
tomient,  thou  criest  out,  *'  I  thirst."  Alas,  how  couldst 
thou  do  otherwise  ?  The  night  had  been  passed  in 
watching,  in  prayer,  in  agony,  in  thy  conveyance  from 
the  garden  to  Jerusalem,  from  Annas  to  Caiaphas,  from 
Caiaphas  to  Pilate,  in  tyrannous  and  unjust  examinations, 
in  buft'etings  and  stripes.  The  day  had  been  spent  in 
thine  arraignment,  in  thy  removal  from  place  to  place, 
in  scourgings,  in  shame  and  contumely,  in  loss  of  blood, 
in  fainting  under  thy  cross,  in  woundings  and  distension, 
in  pain  and  passion.  No  marvel  if  thou  didst  suffer  thirst 
amidst  these  complicated  woes.  Yet  there  was  more  in 
this  drought  than  the  mere  craving  of  nature.  It  was  no 
less  requisite  that  thou  shouldst  thirst,  than  that  thou 
shouldst  die.  Both  were  foretold  by  the  same  prophetic 
voice — both  rested  on  the  same  authority.  Now  is  that 
word  accomplished,  "  All  my  bones  are  out  of  joint — my 
heart  is  like  wax,  it  is  melted  in  the  midst  of  my  body. 
My  strength  is  dried  up  like  a  potsherd,  and  my  tongue 
cleavelh  to  my  jaivs,  and  thou  hast  brought  me  into  the 
dust  of  death."  Had  it  not  been  to  fulfil  those  Scriptures, 
of  which  one  jot  cannot  pass  away,  though  thou  hadst 
felt  this  thirst  thou  wouldst  not  have  declared  it.  Alas, 
what  could  it  avail  thee  to  confess  thy  misery  to  insulting 
enemies,  whose  delight  was  in  that  misery "?  Would  they 
who  pitied  not  thy  bloodshed  pity  thy  thirst  1  Not  so  thou 
spakest — not  as  expecting  any  favor,  but  as  confirming  the 
word  of  thy  sei^ants  and  establishing  thy  sacred  truth. 

And  dost  thou  complain  of  the  want  of  a  few  refresh- 
ing drops,  blessed  Lord,  who  sendest  the  springs  into  the 
rivers  which  run  among  the  hills  ]  who  makest  the  wa- 
ters that  are  above  the  firmament  and  those  which  arc 
beneath  it  1  O  grant  us  to  thirst  after  those  never-failino" 
streams  of  heavenly  gi-ace — let  the  water  which  thou 
shalt  give  us  be  unto  us  the  w^ellspring  of  'jternal  life. 


492  hall's  scripture  history. 

O  Lord,  how  marvellous  are  the  dispensations  of  thy 
providence  !  Thy  murderers,  while  they  seek  to  gratify 
their  revenge,  bear  testimony  to  thy  divine  mission,  and 
to  the  truth  of  thy  word.  In  thy  thirst  "they  gave  thee 
vinegar  to  drink."  This  draught,  O  Savior,  presented  to 
thee  by  thine  enemies,  completed  the  sorrows  thou  wert 
to  endure,  and  the  prophecies  thou  wert  to  fulfil. 

Now  all  thy  labors  are  ended — the  full  consummation 
of  all  predictions,  of  all  types  and  ceremonies,  of  all 
suffering,  of  all  atonement,  is  effected  and  immediate- 
ly proclaimed.  Nothing  now  remains  but  a  voluntary, 
Bweet  and  heavenly  resignation  of  thy  blessed  soul  into 
the  hands  of  thine  eternal  Father,  and  an  instant  entrance 
into  rest,  triumph,  glory.  When  Jesus  had  received  the 
vinegar,  he  said,  "  It  is  finished  !  Father,  into  thy  hands 
I  commend  my  spirit."  And  he  bowed  his  head  and  gave 
up  the  ghost. 


99.— THE    CRUCIFIXION*— co7i/i;iue^. 

The  atonement  is  completed.  The  wrath  of  heaven, 
the  curse  of  the  law,  the  power  of  sin,  of  death  and  hell, 
are  annihilated  by  the  glorious  victory  of  the  Son  of  God. 
The  prophecies  are  fulfilled,  the  legal  ceremonies  are 
abolished,  our  everlasting  peace  is  effected,  the  sufferings 
of  our  Redeemer  are  at  an  end. 

Despised  and  rejected  of  men,  without  form  or  comeli- 
ness, the  scorn  of  an  ungrateful  world,  the  object  of  mal- 
ice, envy,  and  persecution,  our  Savior,  from  the  com- 
mencement to  the  close  of  his  life,  had  been  familiarly 


From  Bishop  Hall's  Passion  Sermon. 


THE    CRUCIFIXION.  493 

acquainted  with  sorrow.  All  was  love,  and  mercy,  and  con- 
descension on  his  part — all  was  base  and  cruel  ingratitude 
on  the  part  of  mankind.  Behold  him,  rejected  of  the 
Bethlehemites,  laid  in  a  manger,  persecuted  by  Herod, 
driven  into  Egypt,  obscurely  educated  in  a  cottage  of 
Galilee,  tempted  by  Satan,  derided  by  his  own  kindred, 
traduced  by  the  Jews,  persecuted  by  the  Pharisees,  be- 
trayed by  his  own  disciple,  apprehended,  arraigned, 
scourged,  condemned,  crucified. 

Blessed  Lord,  the  more  we  contemplate  these  won- 
ders of  thy  mercy,  the  more  are  we  lost  in  grateful 
amazement.  Every  circumstance  adds  to  the  ignominy 
of  thy  passion — to  the  glory  of  thy  triumphant  love. 

All  shame  is  heightened  by  public  notice.  Jerusalem 
was  the  place  where  thou  wouldst  suffer — Jerusalem, 
which  thou  hadst  honored  with  thy  presence,  instructed 
with  thine  heavenly  doctrine,  astonished  with  thy  mira- 
cles, bewailed  with  thy  tears.  The  time,  that  of  the  pass- 
over — when  all  the  inhabitants  of  Judea  were  summon- 
ed to  perform  their  devotions  in  the  temple.  At  this  sea- 
son, thou,  the  true  Paschal  Lamb,  wert  sacrificed  for  us. 
Thou  didst  not  disdain  to  become  an  oblation  for  sin — to 
shed  thine  innocent  blood  for  a  guilty  world. 

While  thus,  O  Savior,  thou  didst  show  forth  the  won- 
ders of  thy  mercy,  thy  cup  was  embittered  by  the  scorn 
and  barbarity  of  thine  adversaries.  The  inhuman  Jews, 
the  cruel  soldiers  triumphed  over  thy  misery — thy  blood 
would  not  satisfy  them  unless  they  filled  thee  with  unjust 
reproach.  Thine  ears  heard  the  blasphemy  of  the  multi- 
tude— thy  lips  were  defiled  with  gall — thy  sacred  body 
was  mangled  and  tortured — and  all  this  was  but  the  ex- 
ternal part  of  thy  sufferings.  Thine  inward  anguish  as 
far  exceeded  these  torments,  as  the  sensibilities  of  the 
soul  are  more  keen,  more  exquisite,  than  those  of  the 
body,  the  wrath  of  God  was  more  grievous  than  all  the 
malice  of  men — and   therefore  never  was   there  soitow 


494  hall's  scripture  ihstory. 

like  unto  tliy  sorrow.  Thy  faithful  servants  have  been 
victorious  in  the  midst  of  bodily  torments  no  less  acute 
than  those  which  were  inflicted  on  their  Lord — but  that 
face  which  was  hidden  from  thee,  shone  benignantly  on 
them  and  supported  them  under  the  severity  of  their  tri- 
als. The  chastisement  of  our  peace  was  upon  thee — the 
curse,  denounced  against  our  sins.  Therefore  was  it, 
that  thou  didst  oft'er  up  prayers  and  supplications,  with 
Rtrong  crying  and  tears,  unto  Him  that  was  able  to  save 
thee.  Thou  didst  behold  the  wrath  of  thy  Father,  and 
therefore  thou  didst  fear — thou  didst  feel  the  burden  of 
our  transgressions,  and  therefore  wert  thou  gi'ieved — 
but.  well  aware  that  we  must  have  perished  but  for  thy 
suffering,  thy  love  surmounted  every  obstacle,  beheld 
every  danger  with  intrepidity. 

In  the  utmost  extremity  of  sorrow  there  is  some  relief 
from  the  compassion  and  sympathy  of  those  we  love. 
The  Savior  of  mankind  looked  for  some  to  take  pity  on 
him,  but  there  was  no  man  ;  neither  found  he  any  to 
comfort  him.  He  trod  the  wine-press  alone  ;  none  to 
accompany,  none  to  assist  him  !  Might  the  angel,  who 
supported  him  in  his  agony,  have  soothed  his  anguish  on 
the  cross,  there  had  been  some  alleviation  of  misery.  But 
how  can  angels  help  whom  God  shall  afflict  1  How 
much  less  can  men,  were  they  disposed  to  extend  their 
charitable  aid  ?  But  what  did  they  1  The  soldiers  mock- 
ed, buffeted,  scourged  him.  The  passers  by  reviled  and 
laughed  him  to  scorn.  The  Jews  sought  his  destruction, 
and  eagerly  thirsted  for  his  blood.  His  disciples  to  a 
man  forsook  him — one,  the  loudest  in  his  protestations 
of  zeal  and  fidelity,  denied  him  with  vehement  execra- 
tions. Alas,  who  shall  comfort  the  innocent  Sufferer  1 
His  Father  ]  Here,  here  was  his  hope.  But  even  he  de- 
livers h;ra  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies — "  My  God,  my 
God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ]"  How  could  the  hea- 
vens and  the  earth  remain  undissolved,  while  the  Maimer 


THE    CRUCIFIXION.  495 

of  them  thus  poured  forth  his  sorrows  1  They  remained, 
but  in  some  degree  partook  of  his  passion.  The  earth 
trembled  and  shook — the  rocks  rent — the  gi'aves  open- 
ed— the  sun  itself  withdrew  its  light,  as  not  daring  to  be- 
hold this  sad  and  fearful  spectacle. 

But  now  "  it  is  finished  " — and  the  storm  wherewith 
tlie  world  itself  was  shaken  is  passed  over.  The  Phari- 
sees, soldiers,  priests,  executioners,  nay,  the  powers  of 
darkness  themselves  have  labored  to  no  purpose.  Our 
Savior,  upon  his  cross,  is  triumphant  over  them  all.  Our 
enemies  are  vanquished — the  divine  wrath  is  appeased — 
the  charter  of  our  salvation  is  renewed — the  Mediator  be- 
tween God  and  man  hath  reconciled  all  things  to  himself, 
whether  they  be  things  on  earth  or  things  in  heaven. 

O  Savior,  shall  we  not  strive  for  the  mastery,  that  we 
may  reign  where  thou  reignest,  having  j^reviously  shared 
thy  sufferings  ]  Thou  beholdest  us  from  thine  heaven — 
the  reward  is  prepared  ;  the  day  of  deliverance  is  ap- 
pointed ;  the  hour  of  redemption  draweth  nigh.  We, 
who  now  go  forth  weeping,  shall  doubtless  come  again 
with  joy  to  the  mansions  of  everlasting  rest.  The  ran- 
som is  paid — there  is  neither  accusation,  nor  judgment, 
nor  eternal  death  for  them  that  repent  and  obey  the 
Gospel.  It  is  God  that  justifieth — who  is  he  that  con- 
demneth  ] 

Let  us  follow  thee,  O  gracious  Savior,  whether  in  life 
or  in  death.  In  our  last  moments  let  us  remember  thine. 
Teach  us  to  commit  our  departing  spirits  into  the  hands 
of  a  faithful  Creator  and  most  merciful  Redeemer.  Lord, 
the  eye  of  faith  beholds  thee  on  thy  cross — it  beholds 
ihce  meekly  bowing  thine  head  as  thou  givest  up  the 
ghost,  and  all  the  fears  of  mortality  vanish  away.  If  thou 
didst  freely  lay  down  thy  life  for  us,  shall  we  repine  and 
murmur  when  we  are  called  upon  to  forsake  the  world 
and  go  unto  our  Father  ]  Shall  we  consider  death  only 
as  an  obiect  of  hoiTor,  when  thy  sufferings  have  taken 


496  hall's  scripture  history. 

away  its  sting  and  removed  its  malignity  1  Hadst  thou 
not  died,  it  had  been  still  a  tyrant:  now  it  is  a  van- 
quished slave. 

Happy  are  they,  who  during  their  life  so  walk  with 
God  as  to  resign  themselves  to  his  guardianship,  with 
humble  confidence,  in  the  day  of  their  dissolution.  Fear- 
ful and  miserable  is  the  state  of  that  man  who  must  part 
with  his  soul  to  go  he  knows  not  whither.  SuiTender  it 
he  must.  If  Satan  hath  possessed  it  during  life,  can  he 
hope  that  God  will  receive  it  at  its  departure  ]  *'  The 
Boul  that  sinncth  it  shall  die." 

Had  we  no  soul,  we  could  but  lead  a  sensual  life.  O 
thou  who  pouredst  out  thy  soul  unto  death,  keep  it  ever 
in  our  remembrance  that  we  are  thine,  and  that  we  are 
on  our  progress  to  our  Father's  house.  How  safely,  how 
confidently  shall  we  pass  through  the  gates  of  death  un- 
der the  guardianship  and  jDrotection  of  that  all-merciful 
Being  who  created,  redeemed,  renewed  us — who  doth 
protect,  presei-ve,  establish  us — and  who  will  bestow  on 
us  the  crown  of  immortality  ! 

Lord,  while  our  souls  dwell  on  earth  they  are  subject 
to  sorrow,  distempered  by  passion,  assaulted  by  sin, 
vexed  by  temptation.  Above,  in  the  cloudless  regions  of 
joy,  are  none  of  these  enemies  to  our  peace.  How  should 
it  be  otherwise  ?  This  is  the  place  of  our  pilgrimage — 
that,  our  home  :  this,  our  wilderness — that,  our  Land  of 
Promise  :  this,  our  house  of  bondage — that,  our  glorious 
kingdom,  where  the  servants  of  Christ  shall  reign  with 
tlieir  Lord  for  ever  and  ever. 

Are  we  then  unwilling  to  resign  this  frail  spirit  ?  Do 
we  linger  with  fond  anxiety  in  this  world  of  sorrows  ? 
Where  is  our  love,  our  hope,  our  joy  in  believing  ] 
Where  our  remembrance  of  his  precious  death,  whom 
we  now  behold  on  his  cross  ?  O  God,  let  us  glorify  thee 
on  earth — let  us  finish  tlie  work  which  thou  givest  us  to 
do.     Then  let  us  in   humble  tranquillity  surrender  into 


THE    CRUCIFIXION.  497 

thine  hands  that  immortal  gift  which  we  received  from 
thee — so  shall  we  behold  tliy  presence  in  righteousness, 
and  when  we  awake  after  thy  likeness,  we  shall  be 
satisfied. 


100.— THE    CRVCIFIXIO^. —couli?iued. 

And  now,  O  blessed  Jesus,  how  grievously  have  carnal 
eyes  mistaken  the  circumstances  and  intention  of  this 
thy  last  and  most  glorious  work  ]  Our  weakness  could 
of  itself  see  nothing  but  pain  and  ignominy — but  our 
understandings,  enlightened  by  thee,  contemplate,  in  this 
thine  humiliation,  both  honor  and  happiness.  Lo,  thou 
that  art  the  Mediator  between  God  and  man,  the  recon- 
ciler of  heaven  and  earth,  art  lifted  up  between  earth  and 
heaven  that  thou  mightest  deliver  us  from  going  down  to 
the  pit,  having  ransomed  us  from  destruction.  Thou,  the 
great  Captain  of  our  salvation,  the  Conqueror  of  all  the 
adverse  powers  of  darkness,  art  exalted  on  thy  cross  as 
on  a  triumphal  chariot,  that  thou  mightest  trample  upon 
death  and  lead  the  adversaries  of  our  salvation  manacled 
after  thee.  Those  arms,  extended  by  the  violence  of  thy 
persecutors,  are  stretched  out  to  all  mankind,  embracing 
them  with  thy  mercy  and  inviting  them  to  the  benefits  of 
thine  all-sufficient  redemption.  Even  while  thou  sufler- 
cst,  thou  reignest.  Can  thine  enemies  disgi'ace  thee  with 
their  miserable  scoff's,  their  poor  wretched  indignities  ? 
Lo,  the  heavens  declare  thy  righteousness,  O  Lord,  and 
the  universe  shows  forth  thy  power.  The  sun  ceases  to 
give  light — the  earth  trembles  as  if  it  shuddered  at  the 
wrongs  done  to  its  Creator — the  rocks  are  rent — the 
veil  of  the  temple  is  torn  in  pieces — the  whole  frame  of 


498  hall's  scripture  history. 

nature  acknowledges  the  dominion  of  that  Son  of  God 
whom  man  despised. 

!  Sin  and  hell  have  done  their  worst.  Thou,  O  Savior, 
art  in  thy  paradise,  victorious  over  the  malice  of  men  and 
devils.  Thy  sacred  remains  are  yet  not  free  from  violence 
and  insult.  The  soldiers  part  thy  garments,  and  cast 
lots  for  thy  vesture  ;  (glorifying  thee,  and  fulfilling  the 
Scripture  by  their  proceedings.)  The  Jews  sue  for  per- 
mission to  show  thee  yet  further  indignities,  but  they  sue 
in  vain.  Thy  garments  could  not  be  whole — thy  bones 
could  not  be  broken — one  inviolable  decree  oveiTule3 
both.  Thine  enemies  look  on  that  lifeless  body  as  if  it 
were  altogether  at  their  mercy — little  do  they  know  the 
guard  which  is  set  on  that  precious  body.  In  spite  of  all 
the  gates  of  hell  that  word  standeth  sure,  **  A  bone  of 
him  shall  not  be  broken." 

Meanwhile,  that  no  part  of  the  divine  prediction  may 
remain  unaccomplished,  he  whose  bones  might  not  be 
broken,  shall  be  wounded  in  his  flesh — he  whose  spirit 
was  returned  to  God,  must  yield  his  last  blood,  even 
after  his  dissolution.  *'  One  of  the  soldiers  with  a  spear 
pierced  his  side,  and  forthwith  came  there  out  blood  and 
water ;  and  he  that  saw  it  bare  record."  Malice  is  wont 
to  end  with  the  life  of  its  object — here  it  survives  it. 
What  means  this  superfluous  barbarity  ?  What  commis- 
sion was  there  for  such  an  atrocious  act  1  Pilate  had 
given  orders  to  break  the  bones  of  the  living ;  not  to 
pierce  the  side  of  the  dead.  How  must  indignation  have 
been  joined  to  sorrow  in  the  hearts  of  those  friends  and 
followers  of  Christ  who  stood  weeping  by  his  cross, 
when  they  beheld  this  sacrilegious  outrage!  But,  O  God, 
when  we  look  up  to  thee,  and  consider  that  thine  infinite 
wisdom  can  turn  apparent  evil  into  certain  good,  while 
we  abhor  the  cruelly  of  thine  enemies,  we  bless  and 
adore  thy  mercy — this  very  wound  proclaims  the  sacred 
office  of  Christ  and  the  truth  of  inspiration — Thei/  shall 


THE    CRUCIFIXION.  409 

look  on  Him  whom  they  have  pierced.  Behold  the  Rock 
which  was  smitten,  and  the  streams  of  life  flowing  out ! 
Behold  the  fountain  set  open  to  the  house  of  David  for 
«in  and  for  uncleanness  !  This  is  he  who  came  by  water 
and  blood,  even  Jesus  Christ — not  by  water  only,  but  by 
water  and  blood.  O  Savior,  by  that  water  we  are  wash- 
ed, by  that  blood  we  are  redeemed.  These,  together 
with  that  spirit  which  thou  didst  surrender  to  thy  Father, 
are  the  three  witnesses  on  earth,  1  John,  5  :  7,  8,  agree- 
ing in  one,  and  expressive  of  the  sacred  union  of  persons 
in  heaven,  who  are  co-eternal  together  and  co-equal  in 
the  Godhead. 

The  Roman  officer  and  his  band  who  were  placed  as 
guards  round  the  cross  of  Jesus,  beheld  the  miraculous 
events  which  attended  his  crucifixion.  They  beheld 
them  with  unprejudiced  eyes.  They  were  free  from  all 
malice  and  bigotry,  and  therefore  capable  of  a  more  in- 
genuous confession  than  the  rancorous  and  cruel  Jews — 
"  Now  when  the  centurion  and  they  that  were  with  him 
watching  Jesus,  saw  the  earthquake  and  those  things  that 
were  done,  they  feared  greatly,  saying,  *'  Truly  this  was 
the  Son  of  God." 

No  marvel  that  these  men  confessed  as  much — how 
could  any  spectator  do  otherwise  than  confess  it  ?  The 
evidence  was  sufficient  to  bring  conviction  to  all  man- 
kind, and  cast  them  at  the  feet  of  their  ciTicified  Redeem- 
er. But  some  minds  are  obdurate  against  every  gene- 
rous impression — the  cold  heart  of  unbelief  is  proof 
against  demonstration  itself  While  Pagans  were  melt- 
ed, Jews  (for  the  most  part)  continued  impenitent  and 
unrelenting. 

Yet  even  of  that  nation  some  beholders,  whom  envy 
and  partiality  had  not  interested  in  this  atrocious  murder, 
were  stricken  with  just  astonishment,  and  smote  their 
breasts,  and  with  passionate  gestures  spake  what  their 
tongues  durst  not.    How  many  must  there  needs  be  ia 


500  HALL  S    SCRIPTURE    HISTORY. 

this  universal  concourse,  of  them  wliom  he  had  healed 
of  diseases,  or  fed  by  miracle,  or  convinced  of  sin,  or 
benefited  in  some  signal  manner  either  in  their  own  per- 
sons, or  vs^ith  respect  to  others  dearer  to  them  than  them- 
selves !  These  (though  deeply  afiectcd  with  the  shame- 
ful indignities  offered  to  their  acknowledged  Messiah) 
are  in  some  measure  comforted,  when  they  see  those 
awful  demonstrations  of  the  Godhead  of  Him  in  whom 
they  had  believed.  Distracted  in  their  minds,  while  they 
compared  those  sufferings  with  that  omnipotence,  they 
trembled  in  the  midst  of  their  joy.  As  yet  their  faith 
was  in  its  bud,  their  knowledge  unconfirmed — *'  If  he 
were  the  Son  of  God,  how  could  he  die  1  If  he  were 
not  the  Son  of  God,  how  could  these  things  be  ]"  Soon 
shall  his  resurrection  from  the  dead,  his  ascension  into 
heaven,  remove  these  clouds  of  apprehension — now, 
their  hearts  could  not  but  endure  the  conflict  of  thoughts 
hard  to  be  reconciled.  Meanwhile  they  glorify  God,  and 
standing  amazed  at  what  they  behold,  look  forward  with 
anxious  expectation  to  the  event  which  may  follow. 

But  chiefly  thou,  O  blessed  mother  of  our  Lord,  how 
many  swords  were  fastened  in  thy  soul,  while,  standing 
])y  the  cross  of  thy  Son,  thou  didst  behold  him  thus  de- 
Bpitefully  treated,  thus  nailed,  thus  bleeding,  thus  dying, 
thus  pierced !  IIow  did  thy  troubled  heart  then  recall 
llie  words  reported  to  thee  from  heaven  by  an  Archangel 
at  the  annunciation,  that  "He  should  be  great,  and  should 
be  called  the  Son  of  the  Highest  " — the  prophecies  con- 
cerning him — the  adoration  of  the  shepherds — the  ap- 
pearance of  the  star — the  journey  of  the  eastern  sages — 
the  wonders  of  his  early  years — those  supernatural  works 
of  his,  the  solemn,  the  incontestable  proofs  of  his  divin- 
ity !  How  was  evei-y  tender  thought  awakened  in  thy 
bosom  by  his  care  of  thee  in  his  dying  moments  !  What 
deep  horror  possessed  thy  senses  when  thou  heardest 
him  exclaim,  "  My  God,   my  God,  why  hast  thou  for- 


THE    RESURRECTION'.  501 

saken  me  ]"  But  when,  seeing  ihe  heavens  bear  a  part 
with  thee  in  thy  distress,  feeling  the  earth  tremble  no  less 
than  thyself,  finding  a  dreadful  concussion  of  the  universe 
proclaim  the  deity  of  Him  who  would  thus  suffer  and 
die,  remembering  his  frequent  predictions  of  drinking 
this  bitter  cup,  and  being  thus  baptized  in  blood — when, 
beholding  these  wonders,  thou  didst  begin  to  collect  thy 
scattered  thoughts,  thou  couldst  not  but  resume  thy  cou- 
rage, and  take  comfort  in  the  assurance  of  future  blessed- 
ness. More  than  once  had  he  j)redicted  his  victorious 
rising — he  had  openly  professed  that  Jonas  was  his  type, 
and  had  promised  in  three  days  to  restore  the  ruined 
temple  of  his  body.  "  The  just  shall  live  by  faith."  O 
Mary,  that  faith  of  thine  in  his  resunection,  and  in  his 
triumph  over  death,  gives  thee  new  life — cheers  thy 
drooping  soul — bids  it  rise  superior  to  thy  fears  and  sor- 
rows— and  represents  to  thee  Jesus,  whom  thou  now 
eeest  dead  and  despised,  as  living,  immortal,  glorious. 


101.— THE   RESURRECTION. 

True  merit  seeks  not  to  obtrude  itself  on  public 
notice ;  and  till  it  be  called  on  to  the  exercise  of  active 
virtue,  remains  in  peaceful  obscurity.  During  the  life  of 
the  blessed  Jesus  no  mention  is  made  of  Joseph  of 
Arimathea — yet  was  he  eminently  rich,  and  wise,  and 
good — a  worthy,  though  bashful  disciple  of  our  Savior. 
Faith  may  be  reserved,  but  will  not  be  cowardly.  Now 
he  stands  forth  and  craves  the  body  of  Jesus. 

No  doubt  the  centurion  had  related  to  Pilate  the  mi- 
raculous circumstances  attending  on  the  crucifixion  of 
Jesus.     His   lieart   tells   him   he   had    done    too   much 


502 

already,  In  sentencing  innocence  to  death.  The  body  by 
his  pennission  is  taken  down,  wrapped  in  fine  linen, 
curiously  washed  and  embalmed.  O  Savior,  thou  who 
liadst  not  where  to  lay  thy  head  when  living,  hast  riot  a 
grave  where  thy  lifeless  remains  may  be  deposited.  The 
faithful  Joseph  resigns  his  tomb  to  thee  who  livest  for 
ever  and  ever — whose  soul  is  in  Paradise,  whose  God- 
liead  is  every  where.  There,  purely  wrapped  and  sweet- 
ly embalmed,  thy  sacred  body  is  committed  to  its  repose. 

And  are  ye  not  now  at  rest,  ye  Jewish  rulers  1  Is  not 
your  hatred  dead  and  buried  with  its  object  ?  Has  not 
Pilate  ministered  enough  to  your  envy  and  revenge  ?  O 
rancor  not  to  be  terminated  by  death,  malice  and  hostility 
that  cannot  die  !  The  chief  priests  and  Pharisees  came 
together  unto  Pilate,  .saying,  "  Sir,  we  remember  that 
this  deceiver  said  while  he  was  yet  alive,  After  i/iree 
days  I  will  rise  again.  Command  therefore  that  the 
sepulchre  be  made  sure  till  the  third  day,  lest  his  disci- 
ples come  by  night  and  steal  him  away,  and  say  to  the 
people  he  is  risen." 

How  full  of  ten'or  arid  perplexity  is  guiltiness !  These 
men  were  not  more  troubled  with  envy  at  Christ  when 
alive,  than  with  fear  of  his  resurrection  now  he  is  dead. 
But  what  expedient  can  secure  them  ?  Pilate  consented 
to  his  death — but  who  can  keep  him  from  rising  !  How 
fain  would  these  Jews  think  him  a  deceiver,  whom  they 
knew  to  be  no  less  true  than  powerful !  Lazarus  was  in 
their  thoughts — that  man  was  no  phantom — his  death,  his 
reviving  were  undeniable — Christ,  who  raised  Lazarus, 
predicted  his  own  resuiTection — what  need  we  any  other 
witnesses  than  the  mouths  of  these  inveterate  enemies  1 
That  which  he  would  do,  they  confessed  he  foretold — 
that  the  truth  of  his  word  might  answer  tlie  power  of  his 
deed,  and  that  both  might  prove  him  to  be  the  God  of 
truth  and  power. 

But   now   tlie  sepulchre   must   be  secured.     A  massy 


THE    RESURRECTION.  503 

Stone,  a  strong  guard  must  be  provided — that  stono 
must  be  sealed — that  guard  appointed  under  the  direc- 
tion of  the  Jews.  O  madness  of  vain  men,  who  think  by 
force  or  artifice  to  frustrate  the  counsels  of  the  Almighty ! 
How  justly  does  the  Lord  of  all  the  world  laugh  them 
to  scorn  in  heaven,  and  delude  them  in  their  own  devi- 
ces !  Blessed  Savior,  how  convincing  is  the  evidence 
given  to  thy  resurrection  by  the  malicious  devices  of 
thine  enemies  !  How  irrefragable  a  proof  of  thy  rising 
is  afforded  by  their  fruitless  and  abortive  stratagems  ! 

The  devout  women  who  had  wept  at  the  cross  of  Je- 
sus, j^assed  their  sabbath  in  grief,  and  hope,  and  wonder. 
They  thought  on  the  prodigies  which  attended  his  death 
— they  sorrowed  at  the  remembrance  of  his  suffering — 
they  treasured  in  their  hearts  the  frequent  and  clear  pre- 
dictions of  his  resurrection.  No  sooner  is  it  lawful  for 
them  to  visit  the  sepulchre,  than  they  repair  thither 
(though  the  morning  has  scarcely  dawned)  to  bestow 
their  humble  oblations.  Had  they  been  aware  that  Jesus 
was  alive,  how  would  they  have  hastened  with  redoubled 
ardor !  We  know  that  our  Redeemer  liveth-r-?f?e  know 
where  he  is.  O  Savior,  how  cold,  how  heartless  is  our  love 
to  thee,  if  we  do  not  make  speed  to  find  thee  in  thy  word 
and  worship  !  if  our  souls  do  not  fly  up  to  thee  in  all  holy 
affections,  and  seek  thee  w^here  thou  mayest  be  found  ! 

At  the  tomb  of  Jesus  every  thing  combined  to  fill  these 
pious  w^omen  with  horror.  The  place  was  solitary  and 
sepulchral — the  time,  night — the  errand,  the  visitation  of 
the  dead  body.  All  this  is  overcome  by  their  zealous 
love.  They  had  followed  him  in  his  sufferings  when  the 
disciples  left  him — they  attended  him  to  his  cross  weep- 
ing— they  went  with  him  to  his  grave  and  beheld  how 
Joseph  had  laid  him — even  there  they  leave  him  not,  but 
return  once  more  to  pay  the  last  tribute  of  their  love. 
They  were  not  ignorant  that  both  Joseph  and  Nicode- 
mus  had  brought  odors  for  those  sacred  remains — but 


504  hall's  sckiptlhl  history. 

they  rest  not  satisfied  \vitli  the  zeal  and  piety  of  others  ; 
they  bring  an  offering  of  their  own.  O  Lord,  what  ad- 
vantage is  it  to  us  that  those  around  us  are  diligent  in 
their  duty  to  thee,  if  we  are  cold  and  heartless  in  thy  ser- 
vice  ?  We  may  rejoice  in  their  virtues — but  if  we  add  not 
our  exertions  to  theirs,  a  day  will  come  when  Ave  shall 
with  horror  see  ourselves  excluded  fi-om  those  regions  of 
bliss  to  which  others  shall  be  called  l^y  their  Lord. 

The  holy  women,  when  they  were  present  at  the  se- 
2)ulture  of  Jesus,  had  noted  the  inner  grave-stone,  which 
Joseph  fitted  to  the  mouth  of  the  tomb.  This  they  are 
anxious  to  remove.  "  Who  shall  roll  away  the  stone  V 
That  other  more  weighty  load  wherewith  the  vault  was 
closed — the  seal — the  guard  set  upon  both,  came  not  in- 
to their  knowledge.  This  was  the  private  plot  of  the 
Jews  and  Pilate,  beyond  the  reach  of  their  thoughts. 

How  well  do  we  succeed  when  we  go  faithfully  in  the 
discharge  of  our  duty  and  leave  the  event  to  God  !  Lo, 
his  power  hath  removed  that  obstacle  which  his  visitants 
actually  feared,  and  that  which  they  would  have  feared 
had  they  known  of  its  existence.  The  stone  is  rolled 
away — the  seal  is  broken — the  massy  rock  is  removed — 
the  guards  are  dispersed.  God  sends  an  angel  from 
above,  the  earth  quakes  beneath,  the  soldiers  escape 
in  terror  and  astonishment,  the  tomb  is  opened,  Christ  is 
risen,  his  enemies  are  confounded.  Who  are  we,  wretch- 
ed mortals,  that  we  should  attempt  to  control  the  designs 
of  our  Creator]  There  is  neither  wisdom,  nor  under- 
standing, nor  counsel  against  the  Lord. 

O  marvellous  pomj:)  and  magnificence  of  our  Savior's 
resurrection  !  The  earth  quakes,  the  angel  appears,  to 
demonstrate  that  universal  power  belonged  to  the  divine 
person  now  rising.  At  the  dissolution  of  iiis  human  na- 
ture was  an  earthquake — at  its  re-union  is  an  earthquake. 
While  he  lay  in  the  recesses  of  the  tomb  all  wajs  still — 
now,  when  he  came,  a  Conqueror  over  death,  *'  the  earth 


THE    RESURRECTION.  505 

trembled  at  the  presence  of  the  Lord,  at  the  presence  of 
the  God  of  Jacob."  O  Savior,  thou  didst  lie  down  in 
weakness,  thou  didst  arise  in  power  and  glory — thou 
didst  lie  down  as  a  man,  thou  didst  arise  as  a  God. 

What  a  lively  image  hast  thou  given  us  of  the  dreadful 
majesty  of  the  general  resurrection  and  thy  second  ap- 
pearance 1  Then,  not  the  earth  only,  but  the  powers  of 
heaven  shall  be  shaken — not  some  few  graves  shall  be 
opened,  and  some  saints  appear,  but  all  the  bars  of  death 
shall  be  broken,  and  all  that  sleep  in  their  graves  shall 
awake,  and  stand  up  from  the  dead  before  thee — not 
some  one  angel  shall  descend,  but  thousand  thousands 
of  those  glorious  spirits  shall  attend  thee,  the  great  Angel 
of  the  covenant.  If  these  soldiers  were  so  filled  with  ter- 
ror at  the  earthquake  and  the  appearance  of  an  angel  that 
scarcely  any  breath  remained  in  them,  how  shall  thine 
enemies,  O  Lord,  abide  that  day  when  the  earth  shall  reel 
to  and  fro,  the  elements  shall  be  in  flames  around  them, 
and  the  heavens  shall  be  wrapped  together  as  a  scroll  1 

The  terrified  soldiers  saw  the  countenance  of  the  an- 
gel vivid  and  radiant  as  the  lightning — both  they  and  the 
women  beheld  his  garments  shining  and  white  as  snow 
— such  a  presence  became  his  errand.  In  the  passion  of 
our  Lord  the  sun  was  darkened,  and  all  things  were 
clothed  in  heaviness.  At  his  resurrection  the  inhabitants 
of  heaven  celebrated  his  triumph  with  suitable  tokens  of 
festal  joy.  They  could  not  but  partake  of  our  happiness 
to  see  the  work  of  man's  redemption  thus  completed. 
If  there  be  joy  among  the  angels  of  God  at  the  conver- 
sion of  one  sinner,  what  must  be  their  rapture  when  a 
world  of  sinners  were  ransomed  from  death  and  restored 
to  their  salvation  ?  It  is  their  perpetual  employment  to 
praise  thee,  O  blessed  Jesus — behold  a  new  song  is  put 
into  their  mouths  :  thou,  the  God  of  light,  hast  vanquish- 
ed the  powers  of  darkness  :  thou,  the  Lord  of  Life,  hast 
swallowed  up  death  in  thy  glorious  victory. 

Script.  Hist.  22 


506  hall's    3CRIPTURE    HISTORY. 

Certainly,  if  heaven  can  be  capable  of  any  increase  of 
joy,  never  had  those  blessed  spirits  so  great  a  subject 
of  exultation  as  on  this  day  of  thy  rising.  How  much 
more  should  we,  v/hose  nature  thou  didst  assume,  for 
whose  sake  and  in  whose  stead  thou  didst  suffer  and  die, 
whose  souls  are  delivered  by  thy  death,  whose  bodies 
shall  be  raised  by  thy  resun-ection,  how  much  more 
should  we  be  overjoyed  at  the  contemplation  of  this 
Avork  of  divine  power  and  inconceivable  mercy  ! 

Behold  now,  though  weak  and  insufficient  of  ourselves, 
yet  in  the  confidence  of  our  Savior's  resurrection  we 
dare  boldly  challenge  and  defy  the  adversaries  of  our 
salvation.  In  spite  of  all  their  power  and  all  their  ma- 
lignity, we  are  safe. 

Is  it  sin  that  threatens  us  1  Lo,  our  Redeemer  by  his 
rising  proclaims  our  deliverance.  Our  Surety  was  cast 
into  the  prison  of  his  grave — had  not  the  utmost  farthing 
been  paid  he  could  not  have  come  forth.  He  is  como 
forth — the  debt  is  discharged  and  cancelled. 

Is  it  the  wrath  of  God  1  Wherefore  is  that  but  for 
.  sin  1  If  our  sin  be  expiated,  that  peril  is  at  an  end.  If 
our  Savior  hath  suffered  for  us,  shall  we  yet  suffer  the 
penalty  in  ourselves  1  Infinite  justice  will  not  be  doubly 
paid.  "  It  is  Christ  that  died — Yea  rather,  thai  is  risen. 
Who  is  he  that  condemncth  V 

Is  it  death  itself?  Our  Savior  overcame  death  by  dy- 
ing, and  triumphed  over  him,  in  returning  from  the  grave. 
How  can  we  fear  a  conquered  enemy  1  What  harm  is 
there  in  the  serpent  but  for  his  sting?  The  sting  of 
death  is  sin — Ikal  is  taken  away  by  the  power  of  our  Ke- 
deemer — it  cannot  now  harm  us,  though  we  caiTy  it  in 
our  bosom. 

O  great  and  glorious  Savior,  we  bless  thee  for  thy 
death,  but  we  bless  thee  more  for  thy  resurrection.  Thy 
death  was  a  work  of  wonderful  humility — of  infinite 
mercy  :   thy  resurrection  was  a  work  of  infinite  power — 


THE    RESURRECTION.  507 

of  transcendent  majesty.  In  the  one  was  human  weak- 
ness— in  the  other,  divine  omnipotence.  In  the  one, 
thou  didst  die  for  our  sins — in  the  other,  thou  didst 
rise  again  for  our  justification. 


102.— THE    R^SVURBCTIO^. ^continued. 

The  repentant  Peter  and  the  disciple  whom  Jesus 
kjved  hastened,  as  well  as  the  pious  women,  to  the  tomb 
which  Joseph  of  Arimathea  had  appropriated  to  our 
Lord.  They  hastened,  but  they  found  only  the  spoils  of 
oLeath — the  grave-clothes  wrapped  up — the  napkin  which 
had  been  about  the  head  of  Jesus  folded  together  and 
laid  in  a  place  by  itself  They  saw  and  they  returned  in 
amazement. 

In  their  speed  to  the  sepulchre,  society  had  been  f  jr- 
gotten — they  flew  on  the  wings  of  zeal  to  see  what  was 
become  of  their  Master.  Their  desire  is  equal — but 
John,  with  the  activity  of  youth,  arrives  before  his  fel- 
low-apostle. Standing  aloof,  he  contemplates  the  se- 
pulchre— Peter  first  enters  into  its  recesses.  Such  was 
their  happy  competition^  each  endeavoring  to  be  most 
ardent  in  the  inquiry  after  Christ !  Yet  still  is  their  faith 
unsettled  and  feeble — they  knew  not  the  Scriptures — 
they  went  away  more  astonished  than  confident — more 
full  of  wonder,  than  of  belief. 

The  apostles  are  gone — but  Mary  Magdalene  remains 
at  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  weeping.  As  she  weeps  she 
stoops  and  looks  down  into  the  sepulchre  of  her  Lord. 

Holy  desires  cannot  fail  of  answerable  success. 
There  she  sees  two  glorious  angels,  the  one  sitting  at 
the  head,  the  other  at  the  feet,  wliere  the  body  of  Jesus 


508  hall's  scripture  history. 

had  lain.  Peter  and  John  were  newly  come  out  of  the 
sepulchre — they  saw  not  these  celestial  visitants.  That 
unexpected  radiance  presents  itself  to  the  eyes  of  the  de- 
vout penitent,  whose  heart  was  so  taken  up  with  thoughts 
of  her  Savior,  that  even  this  sudden  wonder  cannot  in- 
terrupt her  tears,  or  constrain  her  to  silence.  To  their 
question  "  Why  loeepest  ihouV^  her  ready  answer  pro- 
claims, "  They  have  taken  away  my  Lord,  and  I  know 
not  where  they  have  laid  him."  God  and  his  angels  take 
notice  of  every  tear  of  true  devotion.  Of  whom  dost 
thou  complain,  O  devout  soul  %  Who  hath  removed  thy 
Savior  but  the  power  of  his  own  Godhead  ]  Turn  back 
thine  eyes  and  see  Him  standing  by  thee  whose  absence 
tliou  lamentest !  She  turned  about  and  saw  him — but 
she  knew  not  that  it  was  Jesus. 

For  a  while  the  Lord  of  life  conceals  himself  from  his 
faithful  convert — he  beholds  her  tears — he  hears  her  im- 
portunity and  inquiries.  At  last  (as  the  patriarch  could 
not  contain  himself  before  his  brethren.  Gen.  45  :  1,  2,  3,) 
the  compassion  of  Jesus  turns  the  soitow  of  this  mourn- 
er into  joy.  He  saith  unto  her,  "  Mary !"  She  was  used 
to  the  name,  to  the  address,  to  the  accent.  Before,  her 
Lord  had  spoken  to  her  as,  a  stranger — now,  as  a  friend, 
as  a  Master.  The  good  Shepherd  calleth  his  sheep  by 
name,  and  they  know  his  voice. 

She  turneth  herself  and  saitli^  unto  him.  "  Rabboni," 
which  is  to  say,  "  Master."  Her  eyes  had  before  been 
fixed  on  the  angels — this  word  directs  them  to  the  sacred 
object  of  her  solicitude.  We  do  not  rightly  apprehend 
thee,  O  Lord,  if  any  creature  in  heaven  or  earth  call 
away  our  attention  from  thee.  The  angels  were  bright 
and  glorious — thy  appearance  was  even  now  that  of  a 
servant — yet  when  she  heard  thy  voice,  she  turned  from 
the  splendid  vision,  saluted  thee  with  the  name  of 
Master,  and  fell  down  before  thee  with  admiration  and 
delight. 


THE    RESURRECTION.  509 

But  wherefore,  O  Savior,  dost  thou  check  these  effu- 
sions of  joy  ?  Wherefore  dost  thou  say  to  her,  "  Touch 
me  not ;  for  I  am  not  yet  ascended  to  my  Father  ]" 
Was  it  that  her  thoughts  were  fixed  too  intently  on  thy 
bodily  presence  ]  Was  it  that  her  eagerness  seemed  to 
imply  a  fear  of  disappointment,  as  if  she  beheld  only  a 
visionary  form,  which  was  not  to  make  a  lengthened 
abode  upon  earth  before  its  ascension  to  glory  1  O 
Lord,  even  our  well-meant  zeal  in  seeking  and  adoring 
thee  may  not  be  faultless.  If  we  have  known  thee  after 
thy  flesh,  henceforth  we  know  thee  so  no  more.  Could 
■we  say,  *'  Here  didst  thou  dwell,  here  didst  thou  take 
thy  repose,  here  wert  thou  crucified,  here  buried,  here 
didst  thou  arise,  hence  didst  thou  depart  unto  thy  Fa- 
ther," we  should  dwell  with  delight  on  the  memorials 
of  thy  presence — but  if  we  so  fix  our  contemplations  on 
thee,  as  not  to  look  to  the  spirilual  part  of  thy  benefits, 
the  power  and  virtue  of  thy  resurrection,  our  knowledge 
is  vain  and  unfruitful— we  have  need  to  be  instructed 
again  in  the  first  principles  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ. 

No  sooner  art  thou  risen,  than  thou  sj^eakest  of  as- 
cending— that  is  the  consummation  of  thy  glory,  and  of 
ours  in  thee.  "  Go  to  my  brethren  and  say,  /  ascend  unto 
my  Father  and  your  Father,  to  my  God  and  your  God^ 

To  whom  dost  thou  send  her?  "Go,  tell  my  breth- 
ren." Alas,  who  were  thy  brethren  %  Had  not  these 
men  forsaken,  denied,  abjured  thee  ]  O  admirable  hu- 
mility !  O  infinite  mercy  !  At  first  they  were  thy  ser- 
vants— afterwards  thy  friends — now,  disregarding  their 
imperfect  sendees,  thou  dost  not  disdain  to  call  them 
brethren.  When  we  consider  our  offences,  they  are 
heinous — but  when  we  look  at  thy  mercy,  **  Who  shall 
separate  us  from  the  love  of  Christ  ]"  Yet  even  now, 
sinners  as  we  are,  we  are  thy  brethren — brethren  in 
thee,  who  art  ascending  for  us — in  thee,  who  hast  made 
thy  Father  our  Father,  thy  God  our  God. 
22* 


510  hall's  scripture  uistory. 

The  disciples,  whose  flight  had  scattered  them  at  the 
seizure  of  their  Master,  were  now  re-assembled  in  secret. 
Still  were  they  fearful — still  were  the  Jews  malicious. 
With  what  joy  and  wonder  did  they  receive  the  tidings 
of  their  Master's  resurrection  and  life  !  Lo,  while  their 
thoughts  and  discourse  are  taken  up  with  so  happy  a 
subject,  his  own  miraculous  presence  bids  their  senses 
witness  his  reviving,  and  their  own  happiness.  When 
the  doors  were  shut  where  the  disciples  were  assembled 
for  fear  of  the  Jews,  came  Jesus  and  stood  in  the  midst 
and  said,  **  Peace  be  unto  you!"  O  Savior,  they  who 
once  trembled,  supposing  thee  a  spirit,  when  before  thy 
crucifixion  thou  didst  walk  upon  the  waters,  could  not 
now  behold  thee  returning  from  the  grave  without  aston- 
ishment, and  even  terror.  Thy  mercy  hastens  to  dispel 
these  fears — after  thy  wonted  greeting,  thou  showest 
them  thy  hands  and  feet,  stamped  with  the  impression 
of  thy  recent  sufferings.  Thy  respiration  argues  the 
truth  of  thy  life.  Thou  breathest  on  them  as  man — thou 
givest  them  thy  Spirit  as  God — and  as  God  and  man 
thou  scndest  them  on  the  great  errand  of  thy  Gospel. 

All  the  mists  of  doubt,  fear  and  ignorance,  are  now 
dispelled — the  sun  breaks  out  at  once,  and  darkness  is 
removed  for  ever.  They  were  glad  when  they  saw  thee, 
O  Lord  !  They  remembered  the  marvellous  works 
which  thou  hadst  done — the  proof  of  thy  deity  gave 
them  confidence,  and  thy  presence  filled  them  with  joy. 

We  cannot  but  be  losers  by  our  absence  from  religious 
assemblies.  Where  wert  thou,  Thomas,  when  the  rest 
of  that  sacred  band  were  met  together  ]  Had  thy  fear 
put  thee  to  so  distant  a  flight  that  thou  wert  not  yet  re- 
turned to  thy  fellows  ]  Wherefore  wert  thou  not  pres- 
ent, to  partake  of  that  divine  inspiration  which  taught 
them  to  rejoice  in  God  their  Savior  ]  They  said  unto 
thee,  "  We  have  seen  the  Lord."  Is  there  no  certainty 
but  in  thine  own  senses  1    These  tongues  are  commis- 


THE    RESURRECTION.  511 

sioned  to  convert  a  world — and  art  thou  the  first  to  re- 
fuse thine  assent  to  their  word  1  Had  not  thy  divine 
Master  foretold  to  thee  with  the  rest,  that  he  must  be 
crucified  and  the  third  day  rise  again  ?  Is  any  thing 
beyond  the  reach  of  divine  omnipotence  ] 

Blessed  Lord,  how  justly  mightest  thou  have  left  this 
man  to  his  pertinacity'?  It  had  been  no  mai-vel  if  he  had 
been  suffered  to  remain  in  this  unbelief.  But,  O  thou 
good  Shepherd,  who  wouldst  leave  the  ninety  and  nine  to 
go  after  one  that  was  gone  astray  in  the  wilderness,  how 
careful  wert  thou  to  brinor  this  wanderer  back  ao^ain  into 
thy  fold  !  Thy  disciples  were  once  more  so  met  togeth- 
er, such  was  the  season,  such  the  place,  when  (that  un- 
believing apostle  being  present)  thou  didst  stand  in  the 
midst,  didst  single  him  out  from  his  fellows,  and  offering 
him  the  demonstration  he  required,  didst  exhort  him 
"not  to  be  faithless,  but  believing." 

Behold,  thy  mercy  as  well  as  thy  power  hath  melted 
the  heart  of  thy  servant.  "  Thomas  answered  and  said 
unto  him.  My  Lord  and  my  God."  The  sense  of  their 
Master's  omniscience  spares  the  labor  of  all  further  dis- 
quisition. He  believed,  and  therefore  he  spake — **  My 
Lord  and  my  Grod  !" 

Happy  for  us  was  that  distrust  which  occasioned  so 
perfect  evidence  of  Christ's  rising,  whereon  all  our  sal- 
vation depends,  and  produced  that  clear  and  explicit 
attestation  of  his  divinity  who  thus  arose.  Thomas 
acknowledges  not  only  the  resurrection,  but  the  God- 
head of  Jesus,  and  his  own  happy  interest  in  both.  And 
now,  if  they  are  blessed  who  have  not  seen  and  yet 
have  believed,  blessed  is  he  also,  who  having  thus  seen, 
has  thus  believed — and  blessed  art  thou,  O  God,  who  out 
of  evil  canst  produce  good,  and  canst  make  even  the  in- 
finnities  of  thy  children  subservient  to  thy  glory,  the 
welfare  of  thy  Church,  the  comfort  and  edification  of 
mankind.    Amen. 


512  hall's  scripture  history. 


103.— THE   ASCENSION. 

Had  the  Savior  of  mankind  considered  nothing  but  his 
own  glory,  he  would  instantly  on  quitting  his  grave  have 
repaired  to  liis  celestial  throne — but  he,  who  for  our 
sakes  vouchsafed  to  descend  from  heaven  to  earth,  would 
have  due  regard  to  the  welfare  of  his  servants  as  to  tlie 
time  of  his  return.  His  death  had  troubled  the  hearts  of 
many  ;  and  thoughts  of  diffidence  had  siezed  the  holi- 
est breasts — he  therefore  condescended  to  remain  upon 
earth  till  his  disciples  had  received  such  proofs  of  his 
resuiTection  as  incredulity  itself  could  neither  gainsay 
nor  resist. 

Of  all  this  period,  O  Savior,  thou  only  canst  give  an 
account — it  is  not  fjr  our  sinful  and  coriiiptible  nature 
to  trace  the  ways  of  immortality.  Yet  often  wert  thou 
pleased  to  manifest  thyself  unto  men,  not  only  appearing 
to  thy  disciples,  but  renewing  to  them  the  familiarity  of 
thy  wonted  intercourse,  walking,  eating,  confen-ing  with 
them,  teaching  them  the  things  which  concerned  the 
kingdom  of  God,  and  at  last,  before  thy  departure,  as- 
sembling them  for  a  solemn  and  affectionate  benediction. 
**  When  he  had  spoken  these  things,  while  they  beheld, 
he  was  taken  up,  and  a  cloud  received  him  out  of  their 
sight."  O  happy  parting,  fit  for  the  Savior  of  mankind, 
suitable  to  that  divine  conversation,  to  that  succeeding 
glory! 

Lord,  whither  didst  thou  ascend  from  mount  Olivet 
but  to  thy  celestial  throne  ]  Thou  art  gone  up  in  tri- 
umph, and  hast  demonstrated  ihine  universal  dominion. 
The  earth  confessed  thee  her  Lord,  when  at  thy  voice 
she  restored  thy  beloved  Lazanis,  when  she  trembled  at 
thy  passion,  and  surrendered  the  bodies  of  thy  departed 
saints — the  sea  bare  witness  to  thee  when  it  hushed  its 


THE    ASCENSION.  513 

waves  in  obedience  to  thy  word,  when  it  yielded  its 
abundant  stores  at  thy  command,  when  it  became  a 
pavement  to  thy  feet  and  to  the  feet  of  thy  disciple. 
Hell  found  and  acknowledged  thee  in  that  thou  didst 
vanquish  the  prince  of  darkness,  even  him  that  had  the 
power  of  death.  It  now  remained  that  as  Lord  of  heav- 
en thou  shouldst  ascend  to  the  habitation  of  thy  holiness 
and  of  thy  glory ;  that  as  all  power  was  given  unto  thee, 
so  every  tongue  might  confess  thy  supremacy  in  heaven, 
in  earth,  and  under  the  earth. 

But  how,  O  blessed  Savior,  didst  thou  ascend  1  While 
they  beheld  thou  wert  taken  up — so  taken  up  as  that 
the  act  was  thine  own,  the  power  of  that  act  only  thine. 
Thou  who  descendest  wert  the  same  who  didst  ascend, 
still  and  ever  the  Master  of  thine  actions.  Thou  didst 
lay  down  thine  own  life — thou  didst  raise  up  thine  own 
body — thou  didst  carry  up  thy  glorified  nature  and  didst 
place  it  in  heaven.  The  angels  attended  thee,  they  did 
not  aid  thee — thou  didst  not  stand  in  need  of  a  fiery 
chariot  to  waft  thee  to  thy  glory.  As  thou  didst  exalt 
thyself,  thou  wilt  hereafter  exalt  thy  faithful  people. 
Thou  shalt  change  this  vile  body  that  it  may  be  made 
like  unto  thy  glorious  body,  according  to  the  mighty 
working  whereby  thou  art  able  to  subdue  all  things  to 
thyself 

As  after  thy  resurrection  thou  madest  choice  of  those 
eyes  whom  thou  wouldst  bless  with  the  sight  of  thee, 
manifesting  thyself  to  five  hundred  at  once,  but  avoiding 
the  presence  of  thine  enemies  and  murderers  :  so  in 
thine  ascension  thou  didst  select  a  sufficient  number  of 
witnesses  to  attest  thy  miraculous  reception  into  thy 
kingdom.  They  only  beheld  thine  exaltation  who  had 
shared  thy  state  of  deep  humility.  Thus  dost  thou  still 
deal  with  thy  servants,  O  Lord,  and  we  rejoice  in  the 
condition.  If  we  will  converse  with  thee  in  thy  lowly 
estate  on  earth,  partaking  of  the  afflictions  of  the  Gospel, 


514 

we  shall  in  thine  own  time  be  made  happy  by  the  sight 
and  participation  of  thy  glory. 

What  a  sight  was  this  of  joyful  assurance,  of  spiritual 
consolation  !  Behold  the  Savior  of  mankind  rising  insen- 
sibly from  mount  Olivet,  taking  leave  of  his  admiring 
disciples  with  gracious  looks,  with  uplifted  hands,  with 
heavenly  benedictions  !  O  how  unwilling  did  their  eager 
eyes  recede  from  so  blessed  an  object !  How  unwel- 
come was  that  cloud  which  interposed  itself  between 
them  and  their  Master,  leaving  behind  it  a  glorious 
splendor,  as  the  bright  track  of  his  ascension !  With 
what  gestures,  what  exclamations  of  attentive  wonder 
did  these  transported  beholders  follow  thee  their  tri- 
umphant Savior,  as  if  they  would  have  looked  through 
that  cloud  which  hid  thee  from  them,  to  the  emp^Teal 
heaven  ! 

But  oh  what  tongue  of  the  highest  Archangel  can  ex- 
press the  welcome  of  thee,  the  Lord  omnipotent,  into 
those  blessed  regions  of  immortality !  God  ascended  with 
a  shout,  and  the  Lord  with  the  sound  of  a  trumpet.  If, 
when  he  brought  his  only-begotten  Son  into  the  world, 
he  said,  **  Let  all  the  angels  worship  him,"  much  more 
now,  that  he  ascends  on  high,  and  hath  led  captivity  cap- 
tive, hath  he  given  him  a  name  which  is  above  every 
name,  that  at  the  name  of  Jesus  every  knee  should  bow. 
If  the  heavenly  host  rejoiced  at  the  moment  of  his  birth, 
on  his  entrance  into  that  state  of  humiliation  and  infirmi- 
ty, with  what  congratulations  did  they  receive  the  Con- 
queror of  hell  and  death,  returning  from  the  complete 
achievement  of  man's  redemption  ?  "  Lift  up  your  heads, 
O  ye  gates,  even  lift  them  up,  ye  everlasting  doors — and 
the  King  of  Glory  shall  come  in."  Thousand  thousajuls 
ministered  unto  him,  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand 
Btood  before  him,  "  Worthy  is  the  Lamb  that  was  slain 
to  receive  power,  and  riches,  and  wisdom,  and  strength, 
and  honor,  and  glory,  and  blessing.    Blessing,  and  honor, 


THE    ASCENSION.  515 

and  glory,  and  power  be  unto  Him  that  sittetli  upon  the 
throne,  and  to  the  Lamb,  for  ever  and  ever." 

And  why  do  we  not  join  the  celestial  choir  1  Why 
are  we  not  filled  with  transports  of  holy  joy,  to  behold 
our  human  nature  thus  associated  with  the  divine,  to  see 
the  Son  of  Man  exalted  above  all  the  powers  of  heaven, 
adored  by  angel  and  archangel,  crowned  with  inexpress- 
ible and  eternal  majesty  ? 

Lo,  for  our  sakes,  thou,  the  forerunner  and  Captain  of 
our  salvation,  art  entered  into  thy  glory,  and  preparest 
the  way  for  thy  servants.  How  studiously  should  we 
follow  thee  in  faith  and  love,  in  humility  and  long-suffer- 
ing— how  ardently  should  we  aspire  after  the  mansions 
of  bliss  !  O  teach  us  to  follow  thee  in  the  conflict,  that 
we  may  partake  of  thy  triumph,  and  may  sit  down  with 
thee  on  thy  glorious  throne. 

Among  the  multitude  of  angels  who  v/itnessed  thine 
ascension,  some  are  commissioned  to  attend  on  thine 
astonished  disciples,  and  to  comfort  them  with  the  assur- 
ance of  thy  return.  Arrayed  in  robes  of  light  and  joy, 
they  came  to  testify  that  thy  task  was  done,  thy  victory 
accomplished,  and  the  crown  placed  upon  thy  head. 
And  shall  not  our  transports  equal  those  of  thine  angels, 
when  with  the  eye  of  faith  we  see  thee  thus  ascended  '? 
It  is  for  us,  O  Savior,  that  thou  art  gone  to  prepare  a 
place  in  those  blissful  abodes — it  is  for  us  that  thou 
makest  thine  all-powerful  intercession.  While  thou  wert 
on  earth  thou  didst  pray  to  thy  Father  that  they  whom 
he  had  given  thee  might  behold  thy  majesty — whither 
thou  art  gone,  though  we  cannot  follow  thee  now,  yet 
we  shall  follow  thee  afterwards.  In  the  assured  hope  of 
future  blessedness  we  are  filled  with  joy  unspeakable 
and  full  of  glory.  This  is  our  God — we  have  waited 
for  him,  and  he  will  save  us.  This  is  the  Lord — we 
have  waited  for  him — we  will  be  glad  and  rejoice  in  his 
salvation. 


516  hall's  scripture  history. 

"  Ye  men  of  Galilee,  why  stand  ye  gazing  up  into 
heaven  V  O  ye  blessed  spirits,  what  eye  could  but  be 
intent  on  the  path  whereby  the  Son  of  God  was  ascended 
to  his  throne  1  How  could  they  do  otherwise  than  fix 
their  admiring  looks  on  that  cloud  which  had  received 
their  Master  out  of  their  sight  ]  Never  could  they  have 
gazed  so  eagerly  as  now.  Their  treasure  was  in  heaven 
— their  heart  was  there  also.  Not  with  any  intention  of 
conveying  reproof,  not  with  any  design  of  checking  the 
zeal  and  fidelity  of  the  disciples,  did  ye  address  them  in 
this  language.  Ye  would  have  them  still  behold  him, 
but  with  the  eye  of  faith,  and  of  hope,  and  of  joy.  *'  This 
same  Jesus,  who  is  taken  vp  from  ynu  into  heaven,  shall  so 
come,  in  like  manner  as  ye  have  seen  him  go  into  heaven. 
Look  not  after  him,  O  ye  wondering  disciples,  as  so  de- 
parted that  ye  shall  see  him  no  more.  If  he  be  gone,  he 
is  not  lost.  Those  heavens  which  have  received  him 
shall  restore  him.  Ye  have  seen  him  ascend  on  the 
chariot  of  a  bright  cloud — and  in  the  clouds  of  heaven 
ye  shall  see  him  descend  at  the  last  day  to  judge  the 
world.  He  is  gone — rejoice  that  ye  have  an  Advocate  in 
heaven.  If  it  be  sorrow  to  part  with  him,  it  is  comfort 
and  felicity  to  meditate  on  the  place  whither  he  is  gone. 
If  his  absence  be  grievous,  his  return  shall  be  happy  and 
glorious." 

**  Even  so.  Lord  Jesus,  come  quickly  !"  in  the  mean 
time,  neither  can  heaven  separate  thee  from  thy  children, 
nor  can  earth  detain  us  from  thee — raise  up  our  souls  to 
a  life  of  faith  with  thee — let  us  ever  enjoy  thy  conversa- 
tion while  we  expect  thy  return. 


TOE     END. 


Date  Due 

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BS635.A2H17 

Scripture  history,  or,  Contemplations  on 

Princeton  Theological  Seminary-Speer  Library 


1    1012  00046  1329 


